Allie shrugged philosophically. “We were both emotional, and there was a lot of back-and-forth. One minute she was crying, and then yelling, while I was alternately apologizing and then demanding we talk. But finally we both settled down. She still wouldn’t talk at first. Not until I said I considered her the best friend I’d ever had, like a sister, really, the only family I had, and I didn’t want to lose her friendship. Besides, I reminded her, I was going to be little Liam or Sunita’s godmother. She had to talk to me.”
“Liam would have been Sunita if he’d been born a girl?” Tricia asked with a grin.
“Yes,” Allie answered, and then tilted her head slightly and asked, “Why?”
“That’s Elvi and Victor’s daughter’s name,” Katricia said with a smile, and then explained, “They are good friends who live in Port Henry. Our children play together. They have a bed and breakfast and that’s where you will be staying in Port Henry.” She shook her head. “What a coincidence they picked the same name as you and Stella did for a girl baby. I mean, Sunita isn’t that popular a name.”
“That’s part of the reason we picked it. It’s beautiful and unusual. And we could have called her Sunny for short.”
“That’s Sunita’s nickname!” Tricia said with delight.
“Yes, yes,” Lucian said with exasperation. “Sunita is a beautiful name and I am sure Elvi and Victor’s calling their daughter that and it being chosen as the name Liam did not get is some kind of mystical miracle or an omen that you were meant to go to Port Henry. Now, can we finally get to what Stella told you about her sire?”
Allie and Tricia both turned to peer at the man, narrow-eyed, and then Allie asked, “Is he always this grumpy?”
“I fear so,” Tricia said apologetically.
“Hmm,” Allie muttered, and then still staring at Lucian asked, “Tricia, do you think I could have some water or something? All this talking is leaving me dry-mouthed.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Tricia said, getting up at once. “I could do with some water myself.”
Allie immediately stopped glaring at Lucian and stood quickly to follow the other woman, saying, “You don’t have to fetch it for me.”
“They are deliberately trying to provoke me,” Lucian growled, and Magnus turned an amused glance to the man to see that he was scowling fiercely after Allie and Tricia.
“One would think that after all these years married to Leigh, you would have a better grasp of how to handle women,” he said mildly.
Lucian turned his scowl on him, opened his mouth, no doubt to blast him with his temper, but then paused to reach for his phone as it began to sing what sounded to Magnus like “I Touch Myself.”
“Obviously not,” Mortimer said with amusement as Lucian struggled to unhook his phone from its holder while it continued to sing “I touch myself,” over and over. Just those three words. It seemed obvious it was part of a song, but it wasn’t one Magnus recognized.
“Hmm,” Tybo murmured in agreement, and in dry tones asked, “What did you do to piss off Leigh this time?”
“Shut up,” Lucian snarled, finally wrenching the phone free. Hitting the button to answer it, he slapped it to his ear and barked, “What?”
They all waited as he listened briefly, his face flushing with a deepening anger, and then he growled, “No, I am not interested in a free cruise. Stop calling me.” Pushing the button to end the call, he then started to work at getting the phone back in its holder, which he seemed to have as much difficulty with as getting it out, and grumbled, “Bloody telemarketers. I get at least twenty calls a day now from the bastards.”
“Maybe Leigh put you on a call list so you get to listen to her ringtone choice over and over,” Tybo suggested with a grin.
“What?” Lucian’s head shot up, his expression one of dismay. Spearing the younger immortal with his eyes, he asked, “Could she do that?”
“I don’t know,” Tybo said with a shrug. “But if there’s a way to do it, Leigh’s smart enough to find it.”
“Yes. She is,” Lucian agreed, and then suddenly relaxed, smiled, and said, “God, she’s magnificent.”
“I will tell her you said so the next time I see her,” Tricia offered brightly as she led Allie back to the table. “Maybe that will get you out of trouble.”
Tricia was carrying a large pitcher of ice water, while Allie followed with a tray of glasses. Noting her pallor, Magnus stood quickly to take the tray and set it on the table for her.
“Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly as she sat back down. “We thought the rest of you might want some water too.”
“Water sounds good,” he said, trying to hide his concern behind a smile as he settled back in his seat. The color that anger had painted in her cheeks earlier was gone, and she was pale and shaky after her short sojourn for glasses and it made him wonder when Dani would arrive. Surely, she should have been here by now?
“Water?” Allie asked, and Magnus blinked his thoughts away and managed a smile and nod.
“Yes, please,” he murmured, and then glanced to Lucian. Much to his surprise, the man appeared to be holding on to his patience as he waited for the water to be poured and passed around, but Magnus suspected it took some effort. He’d known Lucian Argeneau more than a millennium and the man had never been known for his patience. Fortunately, Allie wasn’t foolish enough to push it too far with the man and started talking the moment everyone had a glass of the icy liquid.
“So, when Stella finally started talking, she began by telling me about the night her husband died,” she said abruptly. “She said they were walking home from dinner when they were attacked by a large group of men. She’d heard their footsteps for a while before they attacked, but hadn’t thought anything of it. Her husband was a good-sized man and she always felt safe with him. She said hearing those footsteps in the parking lot while returning to the car from dinner . . . She thought it was them, coming to get her again, and just panicked.”
“Not surprising,” Tricia murmured.
“No,” Allie agreed. “Her memory of the attack in Vancouver was a bit blurry, but she remembered being terrified and that she’d been dragged away from her husband, or he from her. She remembered their attackers laughing and taunting them, and then one of them sprouted fangs and began gnawing on her arm and she passed out either from blood loss or fear.”
Allie’s expression was solemn as she admitted, “That business about sprouting fangs made me wonder if she wasn’t really suffering some pregnancy-induced psychosis, but I kept that opinion to myself and let her talk. Stella told me that she woke up in a dark, dank basement somewhere. It was some kind of abandoned building, but she didn’t know that yet. At first she couldn’t see or hear anything and thought she was dead, but then she heard her husband, Stephen, moan. Stella tried to crawl to him, but she didn’t have much strength and she was in terrible pain. Everything seemed to hurt and she was wondering just how many wounds she’d sustained and how bad they were when the door suddenly opened and a light was switched on.
“Stella said it was blinding after the utter darkness before it and she couldn’t make out much more than blurry figures, but a man said, ‘Ah, there are my pets. I’ve brought you a special treat to salve that hunger you must be feeling.’