Aris Rising: The Court of Vampires: AN INFINITY DIARIES NOVEL (13 page)

“First of all, C, you turned out just fine. Besides, you’ll be a great mom. You and Bob are not your parents.” Sarah was reminded of Colleen’s wedding day; her fear that she would repeat the horrors of her parents’ marriage. “You’re going to be so good at being a mom, maybe I’ll get lucky and be your kid in the next life.”

Colleen’s mood lightened and she grinned, returning to wolfing down her hamburger. She spoke around a mouthful of fries, “So what’s up with your two men?”

“My men?” Sarah had hoped to avoid conversation about her romantic life. There were so many secrets she must keep from her best friend; she almost slipped several times when they were talking about Carlos. It was difficult sometimes to refrain from calling him Aris to her. The Immortals were a secret that must always be kept. “My men are fine.” She sipped from her soft drink. “Same ol’ same ol’. Nothing new.”

Colleen wrinkled her forehead in serious thought as she leaned
her elbows on the table and folded her hands. “Look, I’m not sure how to say it and it’s none of my business, but I just have to tell you. The more Bob and I talk about DeMarco, the more we think there’s something fishy about him. Neither one of us can put a finger on what it is, there’s just something that’s just not quite right.”

“For someone who doesn’t know how to say something, you were pretty direct and to the point. What do you mean fishy?” Sarah challenged her, amazed at what she had just heard.

“Don’t get bent out of shape. We don’t exactly know. He just doesn’t seem completely legit.”

“What makes you think that?” she questioned, demanding more of an answer.

“I said we don’t know. We can’t figure it out. Just chalk it up to being a cop thing.” She reached across the trays of half-eaten food to place her hand on Sarah’s arm. “Hon, it isn’t that we don’t like him. I’m not saying that. He seems a good enough guy. It’s just there’s something we can’t pinpoint that doesn’t ring true.”

The silence between them was uncomfortable. Colleen broke it by speaking softly to her best friend. “Sarah, we love you. We just want the best for you, that’s all. And I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know that, C. I’m not making any life decisions here. I’m just enjoying keeping company with him.” She patted the hand that rested on her forearm. “I appreciate that you and Bob care about me.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a baby wailing in its mother’s arms as she struggled with the stroller, packages and a toddler by her side.

Colleen gulped air, left her tray with her half eaten burger and hurried from the food court without looking back.

“C, wait up.” Sarah moved quickly after her.

“T
his is so exciting.” The afternoon sun was just setting, turning the icicles hanging from the frozen awning a blazing shade of orange sherbet.

“Interesting is more the word.” Aris wrapped his arm around Sarah, holding her close, shielding her from the freezing wind that pushed them forward.

“Isn’t that the gallery on the next corner?” Curb parking was impossible and the nearest lot they found with spaces still available was three blocks away. She shivered as they hurried across the street.

The warm air hit them as soon as they stepped inside. Muffled voices joined in soft conversation were a pleasant change from the whistling wind rattling the large plate glass windows.

“Sarah? Carlos?” Maggie waved her arms to get their attention. She pointed into the next room before disappearing through the door. Sarah took Aris’ hand as they walked toward the exhibit of his work.

“I didn’t know you had this kind of talent.” Maggie spoke to Aris over Sarah’s shoulder as she hugged her boss.

Working at super speed, he had created three large oil paintings
and several sketches. They were all of old England and were brilliantly rendered. Several patrons were lingering, discussing the technique and lustrous colors. It was as if pure light was shining from the canvas.

Amused, Aris leaned in toward Sarah, whispering, “A technique I learned from watching Monet.” She gasped, still shocked whenever he revealed a new event from his past to her.

#

“So, what happened?” She had barely answered the telephone and the two friends hadn’t said more than ‘hello’ to one another when Colleen questioned Sarah.

“Hold on a minute, C. I just poured coffee.” Settling into the pillows on her couch, Sarah took a sip before answering. The liquid was too hot so she placed the cup on the table in front of her to cool.

“It was wonderful. Not only did everyone love his work, he sold a painting for eighteen hundred dollars. It looks like Carlos has found his niche.”

Sarah moved the receiver away from her ear when Colleen whooped loudly. “That’s great. I wish we could have been there, but Bob couldn’t get off work and he won’t let me go anywhere alone these days.”

“I don’t blame him. It really scared us all when you slid on the ice and fell. He just doesn’t want anything to happen to you, that’s all. So quit complaining.”

“I’m not, just stating a fact. Back to Carlos. I bet it made him feel great to have his work so appreciated.”

“I think it’s a lot more than that. He sees it as a way to make his way in this world.” Sarah gazed into space as she thought, “
My world. The human world.”

S
arah was glad she reached the restaurant not only before the lunch crowd, but before DeMarco. It was a first and it made her smile. She was relieved to have a few moments to collect her thoughts before he arrived.

He had been telephoning her almost daily since his return from Italy. They had spent more time together and the more she saw of him, the more she liked him. He really was everything she had hoped to find in a man. Kind, solicitous, intelligent. Not to mention amazingly handsome. He was a member of her own profession and they were never without things to talk about.

When he touched her, it stirred her blood. She fought hard against her own impulses. Somehow she felt if she were intimate with DeMarco she would betray Aris although she didn’t really know why. DeMarco wanted more from her, but he seemed willing to allow her to take her time. She had shared things with him that amazed her, even telling him about her ex-husband and the sorrow of her divorce. He was a willing listener and seemed to want to learn more about her. She wondered what he would think if he knew what was happening in her life right now.

She smiled to herself as she thought, “
He’d be on a plane to Italy
before I finished my sentence.”
Or would he? There seemed to be a deep understanding between them that she couldn’t rationalize.

She realized that she didn’t know very much about him. All of their conversations had been about their work or about her. He was inquisitive about her background and her life. He took a deep interest in her past and her family. And she readily answered all his questions, something unusual for her.

She sipped her wine, wondering if he could be someone who could take her out of the insane world she had ventured into. Someone who could give her a normal, human life. At least that made more sense than becoming a vampire for love.

Pictures of a life with him played in her mind until, at last, he was there, standing before her. He smiled as he leaned to kiss her cheek before he sat at the table. Her entire body tingled in response to his touch.

#

“This afternoon you have an appointment with a new client. He’s British or something. When he called to make the appointment, his English sure wasn’t the plain old American vernacular.” Maggie sat in the chair across from Sarah, dangling her shoe from the toe of her bare plump foot.

“Vernacular?”

“He sounded so refined, I thought I’d try it out.” She snickered. “Doesn’t work so well on me, huh?”

“Let’s just say you do better as plain ol’ Maggie Fisher from the north side.” Sarah was always swamped with work after the holidays. Some of her weight loss people always fell off the diet wagon and they all wanted a little extra help to get back on. She looked at her schedule and shook her head. “I won’t have any time for lunch today. Would you mind a run to Saul’s for salads?” Pulling her credit card from her wallet, she held it out for Maggie.

“Nope boss. I got it today. I’m out of here. You want the usual?”

“Perfect. What time is this Englishman due here?” They heard the outer office door open.

“I guess right now. I’ll show him in then scoot. Have fun.” Maggie shut Sarah’s door behind her while Sarah hunted for her own missing shoe under her desk.

“Richard Rhys-Davis to see you.” Sarah grinned at the formal sound of Maggie’s voice and responded in kind.

“Please show him in.” She rose to greet her new client.

As he walked in the door, she hid her shock. Another gorgeous man. They were coming out of the woodwork. This one, tall and blond, with cornflower blue eyes and a smile that would stop traffic.

“How do you do?” He extended his well-manicured hand. “I am Richard Rhys-Davis. Doctor Hagan, I presume.”

“Sounds like I have Sherlock Holmes in my office,”
she thought. “Yes,” she spoke out loud. “Please have a seat.”

His dark suit was without flaw and he was obviously comfortable in his own skin as he relaxed in the chair opposite her.

Her head tilted questioningly. “Where would you like to begin?”

Clearing his throat, he drew a card and a badge from his pocket. “Actually, Doctor, I am not here as a client.”

She reached for his card. Reading it quickly, her gaze was full of questions as she looked up at him. “Interpol?”

“Yes, the International Criminal Police Organization. We are here in your country in pursuit of the leader of a global smuggling ring, Ricardo De Flores. I am not at liberty to tell you more than that at this time; however, we have been led to believe this Spanish national may have reason to contact you.”

“Me?” Shock took her voice to a higher pitch. “Why in the world me?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that, Doctor.”

“I’m not a smuggler, I’m a psychologist. What would he want
with me?”

He leaned forward in his chair. “We have records of telephone calls to this telephone number.”

She started to fidget in her chair. This man obviously thought she knew something about the criminal he pursued. “I don’t know this De Flores person. I don’t even have any Spanish clients.”

“Please, do not be alarmed. We know exactly who you are. We were just hoping you might shed some light on the subject. Perhaps you might have a client who might be connected in some way.”

“No. Nothing that I know of. I did have a Latino man previously, but he is of Mexican origin and I know his family. Right now, my clientele is nothing but American citizens.”

He stood. “Thank you for seeing me. You may hear from me again but as of now, I believe we are finished with any questions I might have.” He shook her hand as she showed him out. “And, please, Doctor, do not be alarmed. We have no suspicions that you are in any way criminally involved.”

He stepped into the outer hall. “If you think of anything further, please telephone me at the number I’ve written on the back of the card. It’s my hotel. Good day, Doctor Hagan.”

She took a deep breath as she stepped back into the office, closing the door behind her. “Good Lord, I really was talking to Sherlock Holmes. It’s a shame he didn’t have a hat to tip. That would have really frosted the cake.”

#

Sarah was glad the Art Institute was open late on Thursday evenings. She had time after her last client to stop on her way home. One of her most relaxing pastimes was to visit the rooms that featured paintings by Monet. She remembered during Aris’ art show he mentioned he learned his technique by watching Monet paint. What a life, well, un-life he had led. Being conscious during so many important moments in history; seeing and meeting people
who would remain in the memory of society as long as there was a society. A life that frightened her yet continued to fascinate her. She decided she would think about all of that later.

The clock on the marble wall showed fifteen past six. Aris was rarely late, especially knowing the museum closed at eight o’clock. She was on the verge of being concerned for him when she saw him hurry through the front door. He waved when he saw her and his bright smile made her gasp. Would she ever become accustomed to this vibrant being walking across the foyer to meet her? Every woman he passed turned to look at him. He was truly a babe magnet, but he never appeared to notice anyone except her.

“His Immortal charm,”
she thought.

She stepped to greet him. His lips were cool as they brushed her cheek lightly.

“So sorry I am late. I was detained at the gallery. It seems they would like to do another show. They find my Impressionist work intriguing.” He laughed out loud. “Would they not be surprised to know from whom I learned it?”

Taking his hand, she hurried through the main hall. “Let’s go visit the master’s work.”

The galleries were thinning as the daytime visitors left for their dinners. The evening clientele was just beginning to arrive in trickles. They found six o’clock to be a perfect time for some degree of privacy with the art.