"Are you trying to tell me that you've been faithful to him for six hundred years?"
She cleared her throat. "That is a little personal, my dear. He also goes on to say that he has reason to believe that I was already married when we were wed."
My eyebrows went up at that. "Were you?"
She cleared her throat again. "You know, it was a very long time ago. Certain details are, of course, a tad obscured by time."
"Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this? Your marriage is in name only, isn't it? That's assuming you weren't already married to… what was the dude's name you were head over fangs for back in the day… Marcellus?"
She sniffed. "Yes, my true love, Marcellus. I still think of him every day."
"Were you married to him before you met Thierry?"
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Sure it does." I felt a hot line of anger beginning to snake through me. This woman, while beautiful and intimating and ancient, was annoying as all hell. And considering who she was and how completely she screwed up my love life by her very existence, I actually didn't dislike her. Annoyance. That was all. But annoyance wasn't hate.
"I loved Marcellus with every fiber of my being. He was my soulmate."
I cleared my throat. "And what about Thierry?"
"Pardonnez-moi?"
"What was Thierry to you? I mean, you did get hitched, after all, whether or not it was actually 100 percent legit."
"Things were different then, my dear."
"Were you in love with him?" My voice raised a level in volume.
"I don't believe that I remember you being like this before," she said. "You are normally so calm, collected, and polite. Barely noticeable, really. Is there trouble?"
I leaned back in the leather chair and sighed. "You could say that."
"Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?"
"Yes, actually, there is."
"What, my dear?" she asked. "You are one of my truest friends and I would certainly do anything in my power to make your life happier."
"Sign the papers."
"Pardon me?"
My grip on the phone increased. "I said, sign the papers. The annulment papers? In front of you? Sign them. You don't love Thierry and he doesn't love you. You don't even mind that he and I are together, which let's face it, is not normal loving-wife behavior. Your marriage is a sham and I get the feeling it's been pretty much over ever since the plague-
infested honeymoon. There really isn't any problem here. Keep the last name if that's what you want. Just sign the papers and set him free."
There was silence for a moment. "Free to be with you, you mean."
"That's right."
"So you did know about this little matter after all."
"I may have heard about it."
"Was it your idea?"
"No."
"I don't believe you."
I sighed heavily. "Believe what you want, Veronique. I'm sorry that the idea that he wants a clean break after all this time hurt you, and I'm sorry if I'm sounding a bit bitchy, but I've just recently been cursed to act like a walking vampire cliche who can't go out during the day in case I get burnt to a crisp, so I guess my mood could be a little better."
"A curse?" Her tone turned curious. "Tell me more."
And I did.
"It sounds as if you are behaving like a nightwalker," she said after I finished telling her about my side-effects.
I felt cold at that. "Yeah, I know. Thierry hasn't completely confirmed that's what I am now, but I'm thinking he's just trying to protect me. Do you think that's what this sounds like?"
"I don't know for certain." Her words were clipped. "All I can say is to be careful, my dear. Be very careful until the curse is broken."
"Can you tell me more about these nightwalkers?"
"I do not wish to discuss more unpleasantries. I must go now."
"Wait… are you going to sign the papers?" I asked.
"No, I don't think that I will."
My knuckles were white on the phone. "Why not?"
"I will need to give it some thought."
"What thought? You don't love him. You don't want to be with him."
"Marriage has very little to do with love, my dear. I have tolerated your relationship with my husband only because I felt that it was a minor distraction that had no future. But this is the first time I have been presented with such nonsense as the end of our marriage because of some silly, inconsequential girl. Now, please have my husband"—she enunciated the word—"call me at his earliest convenience."
She hung up.
I glared at the phone after slamming it back in the receiver. If she had been here I would probably have bitten her. Hard. And that wasn't exactly an empty threat anymore.
Why did everything have to be so complicated? Couldn't I have what I wanted in life? Just once? Just one time without any gauntlets to run through first?
No, I didn't think so.