The Vampire Next Door (8 page)

Morgaine looked closer. “It’s between Clarendon and Dartmouth Streets. I’d say it’s close to the corner of Commonwealth and Clarendon. What’s over there?”

Sly cocked his head. “A residential neighborhood, like this one. It’s only a few blocks away. Haven’t you explored your own neighborhood in the city?”

“Uh, I—uh, don’t get out much,” she said, her cheeks heating. As she rose from the floor, she deduced that he didn’t know about her agoraphobia. “Thanks for your help, Gwyneth.” She reached down and helped her cousin up. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Gwyneth waved away the compliment. “T’weren’t nuthin’.”

“It’s nice to see you two getting along again,” Sly said. “I heard you arguing the other night. I know you turned up the radio so I couldn’t hear what it was about. It was none of my business, after all.”

Gwyneth folded her arms. “I wish everyone would mind their own beeswax.”

Morgaine squinted at her. “Don’t start.”

Sly cleared his throat. “Um, would you mind coming in? I think I need to tell you something.”

Gwyneth breezed into Sly’s apartment, but Morgaine remained in the hall.

Sly wondered if she was hesitating because she was worried about what he had to say. “Aren’t you coming, Morgaine?”

“I-it’s awfully dark in there. Would you mind turning on the lights?”

“I’m afraid I never hooked up the electricity.”

Gwyneth sighed. “Morgaine’s afraid of the dark. Have you ever heard such a silly thing? A witch afraid of the dark?”

Morgaine folded her arms and glared in Gwyneth’s general direction.

“Oh, come on. He might as well know since his place is
always
dark.”

When Morgaine didn’t respond, Gwyneth continued, “I can bring some candles down.”

She let out a deep breath. “I can get some. And it isn’t silly. It’s an actual condition called nyctophobia.”

“No need to leave,” Sly said. “I have candles here. I’ll be right back.”

While he was in the kitchen, he overheard Morgaine say, “Did you have to tell him I’m afraid of the dark? Couldn’t you have said it’s harder for us to see in a dark apartment than it is for him?”

Gwyneth whispered, “Y’all are bein’ silly. It’s Sly, after all. Not someone y’all have to impress. In fact, y’all might as well tell him about your agga… agriv… whatever that condition is called. The reason why I came up North to help y’all in the first place.”

Morgaine whispered, “Agoraphobia. And, no thank you. I’d rather not tell anyone if I don’t have to.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake. What are y’all gonna do if I’m not around and y’all need something from the store?”

“Wait until you get back.”

Gwyneth let out a big sigh. “I do declare. Y’all are helpless as a Yankee at a grits-eatin’ contest without me. Either get over this, or find someone else to help. I won’t be here forever.”

Sly returned to the living room with a couple of jar candles Roz had left for him. She’d said they weren’t allowed to burn candles at the school, even in the resident apartments, but he suspected that was a ruse. The thought was appreciated and, as it turned out, handy as well.

The witches settled on the couch once illumination was flickering around the room. Sly placed the candles in the empty fireplace. “I hope you don’t mind cinnamon scent.”

Gwyneth smiled slyly. “We don’t mind at all. Cinnamon inspires lust. Did y’all know that?”

Morgaine elbowed her.

Sly leaned against the mantel. “Well, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Gwyneth’s eyes popped. “A three-way?”

Sly almost burst out laughing.
Said with the innocence of a phone-sex actress.
“No. Actually, I thought before anyone got the wrong idea, I should explain why I’m not interested in a sexual relationship right now.”

Gwyneth’s face fell. “Y’all don’t want a three-way? Y’all must be the only man on the planet who don’t.”

Morgaine leaned over and covered her face. “Where’s a black hole when you need one,” she mumbled.

Sly figured he’d better jump right into his explanation. “Gwyneth, Morgaine, you’re both beautiful women, and any man would be lucky to have you—separately or, uh, together, but I’m afraid I just wouldn’t feel right about that.”

“Why? Because you’re still hung up on your wife? She’s been dead for about a zillion years,” Gwyneth protested.

“Twenty-six. It’s not that. I don’t want to come between you two. I’d like to date one of you, but I’d hate to hurt the other’s feelings. There’s one thing I know about women—none of them want to feel like second best.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Gwyneth said. “So, which one of us are y’all choosin’?”

“Morgaine and I seem to have more of a connection, Gwyneth. I don’t want to insult you, but I think she and I might really hit it off.” Was he imagining it, or did Morgaine’s eyes widen as if she were shocked?

Gwyneth rose. “Well, I won’t be botherin’ y’all anymore, Sly. I know when I’m beatin’ a dead horse… so to speak.”

Morgaine bolted upright. “Gwyneth, you’ll still help Sly by going to Salem, right? I mean, he’s still our friend—even if he doesn’t want to have a romantic relationship.”

“Of course. What do y’all take me for? I ain’t someone who turns her back on a friend.” She turned her pert little nose up. “I’ll even help him set up and run the still, just like I promised.”

Morgaine visibly relaxed. “Good.”

“Well, Sly. I guess I’ll mosey on. Y’all let me know if…”

Morgaine sent her a head shake.

“What? I was just gonna say—”

“I know what you were going to say.”

Gwyneth threw her hands in the air and walked out muttering something about how folks have the right to change their minds.

Morgaine moved toward the door but stopped before she got there. “Did you mean what you said about me, or were you just saying that to discourage any more advances?”

Sly strolled over to her and took her hand. “I absolutely meant it.”

She smiled shyly and then glanced up the stairs. “I’m sorry about my cousin. I don’t know if she has the maturity to understand completely. I’ll explain that it wasn’t personal.”

“Can you stay for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

Sly closed his door and led her back to his couch. “I don’t have much to offer in the way of refreshment, but I do have that champagne Merry gave me. Would you like some?”

“I thought you didn’t have a corkscrew.”

He chuckled. “Champagne doesn’t need a corkscrew. I was just making a joke. I didn’t really want to open it then.”

“But you do now?”

He tipped his head and shrugged. “Why not? Unless you don’t want it since it’s not chilled. No electricity means no refrigeration.”

She hesitated a moment, then mirrored his gesture and said, “No, I don’t mind. Sure. Why not?”

She waited on his couch while he strolled to the kitchen. He watched her stare into the candle flames as if in deep concentration.

This witch fascinated him. He could read the other one like a book. A book with two pages, including an index that referred every item to page one.
Not that she’s shallow or anything…

Morgaine was far more complex and raised questions he would love answered. Prying wasn’t in his nature though.

He grabbed a couple of glasses and set them on the counter. Then he pulled the champagne out of the fridge and ripped off the foil paper to open the bottle. When the cork popped, Morgaine jumped.

“Are you okay, Morgaine?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. I just forgot about the pop when opening the champagne. I should have been ready for it.”

Jeez, she has quite a startle reflex.
Sly strolled over with the glasses and the open champagne bottle. “Are you nervous?”

“No. I was just… far away. Sometimes looking into flickering flames puts me right into a trance.”

“I see.” He poured a glass and handed it to her. “Is it all right if I sit next to you?”

“Of course, silly. You and I have sat next to each other before.” She took a big sip of champagne.

In a few moments, she appeared relaxed and comfortable again.
Good
.

“Do you ever see things in the flames?” he asked.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve heard it’s one way psychics scry. Is that the right word… scry?”

She grinned. “Yes. I’m surprised you knew that.” Another long sip of champagne, and her posture relaxed some more.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m full of surprises. I spent many evenings at the Boston Public Library reading anything and everything that caught my interest.” Setting down his wine glass, he rubbed his hands together, hoping the friction would take the chill off.

He took her hand in his. “I have a confession to make.”

She sat up a little straighter. “Confession? I’m a priestess, not a priest. We don’t generally hear confessions.”

He laughed. “Not that kind of confession.”

“Oh.” She looked slightly embarrassed.

Her blush sent shivers straight to his loins, as had her earlier smile.

“Morgaine, I asked you to hang back because I’d like to get to know you better.”

Her brows knit. “In what way? We’ve known each other a long time.”

“I might be undead, but I’m not—dead. Know what I mean?”

She shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t follow.”

He rubbed her hand gently with his thumb. “I’ve noticed you in a whole new way recently. And it isn’t because of the makeover. Well, maybe softening the hard edges opened up the idea of…” He struggled for the right words. Why, oh why, hadn’t he rehearsed this speech?

“What is it, Sly? What have you noticed?”

“You’re a caring, nurturing person. You’re the one who thought of room-darkening shades for me. And even before that, you took such good care of me when I hurt my fang. You didn’t even tease me about my lisp until I was feeling better.”

She dropped her head and blushed.

“Put it this way, I miss being married, and I think the right woman might be able to ease the loneliness.”

She lifted her head and stared at him. “Are you coming on to me?”

He chuckled. “What I’m saying is that, for some reason I can’t explain, I’m attracted to you. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and yet you confuse me. Well, that’s not exactly right.”

“My, I feel so flattered,” she said, deadpan.

“Sorry. What I mean is, I’ve always liked you, but recently I’ve liked you more…”

“More than what? A kick in the head?”

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t blame you. I’m making a mess of this.”

“Would you mind if I tried something to clean up the mess? It might help.”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Hold both of my hands and let me read you.”

“You’re not talking about mind reading, are you?”

She chuckled. “I wish. That would make things a whole lot easier. No, I’m just talking about gleaning whatever I can psychically. My mind forms pictures. Then maybe you can fill in the blanks.”

He nodded. “What do I need to do?”

“Just hold both my hands and face me.”

Sly adjusted his position on the couch and grasped both her hands. She did the same.

“Now lean forward until our foreheads are almost touching, and close your eyes.”

He followed her directions. “Am I supposed to be thinking of something? Or should I try to empty my mind, like in meditation?”

“Just let it wander,” she said softly. “Relax and let your mind go wherever it wants to.” Her voice was almost hypnotic.

Despite hoping it wouldn’t, his mind went straight to his cock. He pictured himself and Morgaine lying next to each other, facing each other, on the rug before the fire. Her long, blonde hair splayed out behind her, and then the romantic scene in his mind’s eye rolled into an intimate embrace, a long kiss…
tenderness
,
that’s it.

That’s what he felt for her. Tenderness. It wasn’t exactly love, but more than like—a step between, perhaps.

His eyes drifted open. Hers were still closed, but she was smiling. Sly let go of one of her hands and cupped her jaw. The thought of compelling her to kiss him flitted across his mind. But no. He wanted her to want to. What good was it otherwise?

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Is everything all right?” Her lips remained slightly parted.

He didn’t answer her, at least not verbally. He simply drew her to him and kissed her—tenderly. Thankfully, she responded in kind. They kissed for a good, long time.

*   *   *   *

Bundled in her black cape, Gwyneth rode the bus to Salem. It was still early morning, but Sly would be fast asleep by now. She didn’t bother to say good-bye to Morgaine, either. How dare her cousin think she would let Sly down? She realized Morgaine was a lot sweeter on Sly than she was. Maybe he had picked the right cousin, after all. She’d find another guy, and then everyone would be happy. That’s what she really wanted.

She was going not only to find out how to reseal the front door against vampires but also to ask Laurie Cabot if she’d heard about the vampire wine cure. Perhaps the high priestess knew the right ingredients. Then if she and Sly could figure out how to make the stuff, they could bottle it in the moonshine and it would keep practically forever.