She laughed lightly. "Worried? No, Thierry, I wasn't worried. I was disappointed."
He eyed her warily. "Why?"
"After you disappeared the other night there was a raid of hunters. I barely escaped with my life. Marcellus…" She brought a handkerchief to her mouth. "Marcellus was murdered.
I watched him die."
He frowned deeply and felt a surge of anger at that. Marcellus had told him that
Veronique's safety was assured. "You shouldn't have stayed. You should have left and hidden yourself at the first sign of danger."
"As you did?" Her eyes flashed. "No, I would not leave him in such a way. Marcellus was brave. He fought against those who meant to kill me. You ran away like a scared child. So yes, I am disappointed that I am married to such a coward. In fact, I'm surprised that you returned at all. I thought perhaps that you would be too ashamed to face me again."
He fought to keep his expression emotionless. "And yet, here I am."
She sniffed and dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes. "I miss him, Thierry. I don't know if he knew how deeply I loved him."
"Had he lived, would you have left me for him?" he asked.
She looked at him with surprise, concentration creasing her forehead. "I guess we shall never know the answer to that question." She sighed. "Now, please get my bags. Let us leave this horrible place once and for all. I wish to go somewhere else. Anywhere else."
"No, not yet. There's some business I must attend to later this week."
Her eyebrows raised. "Some business? You?"
"Yes."
"Very well. Perhaps you have returned from your hiding place with more motivation than you've had in the past. It will be a good thing if you have found some goal to achieve other than looking sullen."
The woman was in mourning for her lover. He would forgive her sharp tongue. Forgive, but not forget.
Her beauty was as incredible as it always had been, but it dimmed slightly for him around the edges from that day forward.
It didn't matter. Her grief would fade. Their relationship would become comfortable again.
She would always think of him as a coward who had run away from a fight. He had to admit that it was an excellent cover.
Thierry kept the truth in a tight ball deep in his chest. It warmed him on many cold nights to follow.
Attending my high-school reunion tonight, I'd decided, was going to prove one very important thing to me.
I was normal.
No matter what had happened to me—becoming a vampire, killing a hunter in self-
defense, being incorrectly labeled the Slayer of Slayers, having my apartment blown up, getting staked and nearly killed—none of that mattered. I was still perfectly normal.
It was a goal.
So, what had seemed like a vaguely okay idea a couple of weeks ago—going to the reunion—now was a vital necessity to help me feel as if my life hadn't gone completely out of control. Even though it had.
Being staked had aged me. Significantly. I felt older and more wary and paranoid than ever before, at least until we reached the border of Abottsville, which, by the sign, reminded visitors in hand-painted letters that it was still "the home of the largest pumpkin in Ontario." Just seeing that sign helped me to relax a bit.
Just a bit.
"You're very quiet," Thierry said.
Wow, if he was commenting on how little I was speaking, considering how little he usually spoke, then I was definitely not acting normally.
"Sorry," I said. "Just having an internal monologue about life and death ."
"Are you still all right with us coming here?"
"Yes. Absolutely." I pushed all other thoughts away.
"If you'd rather we turn around and go back to Toronto—"
I shook my head. "No, it's fine. I'm glad to be here. Plus, I really want to see my mom and dad. I can't wait to introduce them to my wonderful new boyfriend."
"And since he couldn't make it, what will they think of me?"
I eyed him. "Was that a joke?"
"An attempt."
One thing Thierry didn't really possess was a funny bone. I'd searched. I'd found nothing.
But it was sweet of him to try.
We were to check into the motel and then go for a superquick visit with my parents, who didn't know their only child was a vampire, and I'd prefer it stayed that way. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Or me.
Then tonight we'd go to the reunion dance. There had actually been a couple of days of reunion-related activities, but too much of a good thing is not good at all. It was the dance, a little schmoozing, and then it was over, and ideally I'd get rid of this vampire-
related funk I was going through and feel better about life, liberty, and the pursuit of vampiric happiness.
Mom had offered to let us to stay with them in my old bedroom—even though she'd made it clear that she didn't approve of us sharing the same room out of wedlock (her words)— but I decided that a motel room would be the best option for all involved.
The motel was the only one in town, the Abottsville Motor Inn with an adjoining restaurant called the Breakfast Nook. It was just as classy as it sounded.
The room itself was what the management considered a "luxury suite" and did boast a king-sized bed underneath an oh-so-elegant ceiling mirror. I normally would have found that terribly amusing, especially with the irony that vamps didn't have reflections, but instead it just seemed embarrassing.
Once the supreme tackiness had settled in, I hung the dress I'd borrowed from Amy in the closet, threw my overnight bag in the corner, and checked the bedsheets for any potential cockroach infestations. Then I had a quick shower and freshened up my makeup using my shard compact mirror, which Thierry had bought me as an early Valentine's Day gift.
Vampires didn't normally have reflections, but a shard wasn't a regular mirror. It was very special and very expensive and I could see myself just fine and dandy in it. I had a bigger one on the wall at George's house, but it wasn't exactly portable.
Thierry waited for me as I finished up. I'd decided for casual comfort by wearing dark blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater under my winter coat.