“He’s sun sensitive because of some…medication, but maybe he can stop by one night to do just that.”
I instantly feel bad for despising the man. He has a sleepwalking condition and he takes heavy-duty medication. My brows draw together, thinking a little more about his eccentricities. Neli also said he works a lot at night too. So many things that don’t quite fit—avoids sunlight, works nights, sleepwalks in the early morning, on heavy medication. He sounds like an oddball nocturnal animal. “What’s wrong with him?”
“What’s not wrong with him is a better question,” she replies.
“Sorry to hear it.” I lean forward. “I appreciate you coming over to follow up, but I don’t feel comfortable collaborating on anything. I don’t think it’s in my best interest to spend any more time with Mr. Bozhidar.”
“I see.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Okay, well, I tried. So, uh, nice chatting with you. Sorry it won’t work out. Bye.” She stands abruptly and heads back the way we came.
I stare at her rapidly retreating back. Funny. She didn’t sound sorry. She sounded kind of cheerful when she left. I shake my head. What an odd pair those two are.
Guess we didn’t miss anything never spending time with our neighbors.
Boz
“What do you mean she’s not interested in spending the evening with me?” I roar. This is the gravest insult. And I put on my new velvety cape for this? After a wonderful slumber and an arduous time selecting the perfect outfit for Stella’s visit this evening, Neli has brought nothing but disappointment. “Did you tell her the pinot noir doesn’t taste like horse piss?” I gave Neli strict instructions to say just that.
“Yes, Boz, I did exactly as you asked. And I said we were sorry about the way things ended last night.”
“Did she forgive you?” A vampire never apologizes, so Stella had better appreciate the gesture.
Neli looks to the floor, finally submissive, as my servant should be. “I think so.”
“Then what is the problem? I demand you bring the virgin here tonight.”
Her head jerks up. “Boz, it’s different now. You can’t just summon a virgin. And how do you even know she is a virgin? A modern woman in her twenties probably isn’t.”
My nostrils flare. “It’s in her scent. Roses.”
“Roses,” she mumbles.
Does she not recall the distinct odor of purity? Perhaps she’s forgotten after sleeping with so many men over the centuries. I politely decline from mentioning her open-toed shoes and whoring ways with those three men. Three! Quite scandalous. The important thing is that Stella shows up as I’ve planned.
“Did you tell her I summoned her here this evening, yes or no?” I demand.
She holds up a palm. “In so many words.”
“How many words does it take? It is a simple phrase. My master summons you.”
She grimaces, most likely at the reminder of her incompetence. “People don’t say summons nowadays. I mentioned collaborating.”
“Collaborating.” I try the word out on my tongue, not liking the feel of it. “What does this mean?”
“Never mind.” She takes a deep breath. “Bottom line—she says it’s not in her best interest to spend time with you, and I have to say she’s not wrong.”
“You speak in riddles, woman! I am never at the bottom. I am on top. I am the Great Prince Bozhidar Alexandru and must be obeyed.” I flash my fangs in displeasure.
She backs away, cringing at my display of power. This doesn’t make me feel as good as I hoped. The Stella problem harps on me. For some reason, her abrupt departure last night made a hollow ache in my chest area. I thought her virgin blood would help the ache, but perhaps it is her presence I crave too. Why else would I feel like howling at the moon like a lowly werewolf? They don’t know their head from their ass the way they chase their tails.
“Neli, you must solve the Stella problem.”
She lets out a long breath that I assume is necessary for her to summon the strength to face me again after I intimidated her so with my fangs. “Why her, Boz? She’s got enough troubles without adding a hungry vampire to the mix. Her mom says their winery isn’t doing well, and they’re hoping Stella’s marketing know-how is going to bring them back from the dead, so to speak.” Zombies? At my horrified expression, she adds, “Not literally.” Most unnatural the way decaying corpses walk the earth.
Neli blows out another harsh breath.
I am beginning to wonder if Neli has contracted consumption. It would explain her unusually insolent behavior lately. That would be most inconvenient. Not that she would die, since she is practically immortal, but that does not mean she can fall ill. Who would brush my hair before bed?
She adds, “I feel like you need to catch up with modern speech. Maybe I’ll have you watch all ten seasons of Friends. That’s where I learned the most about current dating customs.”
I cock my head. “Dating customs? Is there some sort of exchange of fruit? I don’t believe we grow dates anymore.”
She laughs and promptly quiets at my glare. “I’m talking about how modern men and women spend time together.”
Finally. She is fixing the problem. “That is what I need. Bring me these friends of yours, and then tomorrow I will be prepared for Stella.”
“To do what?”
“For the dating.”
She blows out another breath. Definitely consumption. I’d better have her call for the leecher. “The only way I’m going to arrange for you to spend time with Stella is if you help her with her family’s winery. Not bite her, not mate with her. Help her.”
“You must assist me with the dating. I command it.”
“What if we work on a wine blend from our varietal and hers? Maybe then she’d have a chance at actually making a decent wine.”
I arch a brow. I have my doubts. Mixing a fine wine with horse piss will taste like fruity horse piss, but my need to see Stella again trumps any argument against it. “And then Stella will spend time with me once more?”
She hesitates.
If I had a beating heart, it would be pounding in anticipation. As it is, every muscle in my spectacular body tenses.
Finally, she says, “If you let me help you adapt to modern times—”
I gesture impatiently, waving her on. “Yes, yes, watching your friends, but not for ten seasons, just the one night. I cannot wait ten long seasons to see Stella again.”
She makes a strange face, almost like she wants to smile except her lips are smashed tightly together. “Then yes. I think she’ll agree to spend time with you.”
Fire shoots through me, the fire of victory. I will have what is mine. Stella.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Boz
I spend the entire evening watching the tiny friends perform several stage plays through the magical window on this “TV” Neli has installed in my bedchamber near my reading chair. I do not know when they sleep or where they hide the audience, who seems to laugh every few seconds, but I find no humor in any of it. To the contrary, this group of very old adults—in their late twenties—are very peculiar. They are unwed, own no land, have no servants, and the females are well past their childbearing years. Also, apparently no one works despite claiming to have jobs.