Be Mine Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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      “You could try ‘me ghoul.’”

      “Doesn’t quite carry the same weight. Not yet.”

      Stella raised her eyebrows. “Not yet?”

      “If I can look Tom straight in the eye, and tell him who I am, he’ll have to do something about his ‘poor, little ghoul’ attitude.”

      “Any idea how you’re going about it?”

      “Stomping the sidewalks. Tom’s looking for the answer in old tomes. I’m going to search the here and now.”

      “He’s used the computer too, just as Kit has.”

      “Yes, and every so-called lead is a dead end. I have one clue: my leather coat. I want to go down to Totnes and search for the shop—Mariposa, according to the label. Maybe they keep records of customers.” She sighed. “I doubt it’s that easy. But it’s a chance and I’m grabbing it. If it’s a dead end, at least I’ve done something.”

      “Maybe it isn’t a dead end, but you could be in for a shock. You don’t know what you will discover.”

      “I really doubt I’m a long-lost heiress. More like something very ordinary like a teacher or secretary. But at least I’d know. It might be fun to look Tom in the eye and say, ‘I’m Tallulah Bloggs and I’m a cocktail waitress.’”

      “If that ends up as the name your mother gave you, you’d better stick with the one you picked out of the phone book.”

      Angela’s smile faded. “That’s what’s so hard. Hell, I don’t even know if I had a mother!”

      “You must have, once upon a time.” They were both silent a few moments, until the buzz of the timer distracted Stella for a few seconds. She pulled out one cookie tray, and slid in the next batch. “Don’t forget the reason behind everyone’s caution. Somewhere out there still lurks the vampire who made you.”

      Not a thing she was likely to forget in a hurry. “The odds are he’s the other side of the Atlantic.”

      “He could get on a plane as easily as we did.”

      Angela nodded. “Trust me, Stella. I’ll never forget the horror and terror we fled from. If that monster were anywhere near, and I mean within miles, I’d know.” Just thinking about it made her shudder.

      “Maybe. But we can hide ourselves when we want to. Be careful.” Stella started easing the cooling cookies off the sheet. “It might be wise to leave before Justin gets back from this conference. He’s bound to give you every bit as much flack as Tom.”

      Good point.

      Stella picked up the mixing bowl, but as she turned on the water, Angela grabbed it. “No point in letting good cookie dough go to waste.” She scraped it half clean before she realized Stella was eying her. “Miss it, do you? I’m so wrapped up in myself, I forgot that you, too…”

      “Had a life-altering change?” Stella smiled. “I soon got over the shock. Given the alternative to being vampire, it didn’t take long to accept the inconveniences. But I do miss cookie dough. And ice cream. And chocolate.” She sighed. “No point in going there.” She snapped the lid on the flour canister and put it away.

      Angela held out a spoon. “Sure you won’t have a taste?”

      Stella shook her head “Thanks, but no way. I tried it once. It tasted of nothing, and for days afterward, I had the awful sensation of a lump stuck in my throat.”

      Angela reached for a still-warm cookie. Life as a ghoul did have its compensations, and Stella made great cookies.

      “Bye, Sam.” Stella watched her son as he crossed the crowded playground and joined a group of other nine-and ten-year-olds. Satisfied he was safe inside the school gates, she smiled at Angela. “Here we go.” She turned down the village street and headed for the Moors and York. “How long are you planning on going?”

      “Maybe a couple of days. I’ll either find out something or I won’t. I don’t plan on hanging around.” With a bit of luck, she might be back before Justin. He was liable to be just as unreasonable as Tom. Male vampires tended to act as if they ran the planet. “I don’t want you catching flack over this. Do you think Justin will cut up rough?”

      Stella shrugged. “If he does, it won’t be the first time, or the last. Quit worrying! And for Abel’s sake, take care of yourself. I don’t want you ending up in the same condition as when Vlad found you.”

      “I’ll be careful,” Angela promised, half smiling to herself at hearing her friend invoke Abel’s name. Stella fitted so easily into a vampire existence. She couldn’t help but envy her. Vampires had the colony for support and company; being a ghoul was an empty pain in the patootie. Not much point in complaining. Better up stakes and do something about it. Good thing she hadn’t said the last bit aloud. Vampires could get touchy.

      “Sure you’ll be okay?” Stella asked as the train drew into the platform.

      “I’ll be fine, honest. You know where I’m staying?”

      Stella nodded. “The Royal Oak. Call me. Promise?”

      “I’ll tell you everything I find out. Drive carefully, and let’s hope the rain keeps up.” Angela worried that Stella would get stranded in sunlight. Not that there was a lot of chance of that in February, but…

      “The car protects me.”

      “You should have just dropped me and driven home. I’ll be fine.”

      Stella shook her head. “I wanted to be able to assure Tom, if he asks, that I saw you safely on the train.” But he’d still throw a hissy fit. Another reason to get back quickly.

      A signal failure outside Birmingham added fifty-seven minutes to the six-hour journey. By the time Angela stepped down onto the platform at Totnes, she was ravenously hungry. Train food wasn’t the sort to sustain a ghoul. She had to find meat, probably should look for her hotel, and wanted above all else to scour the leather shops. The town looked small. How hard would it be to find one shop?

      Harder than she anticipated.

      The clerk at the Royal Oak, a woman called Sarah, hadn’t heard of Mariposa but admitted she didn’t live in Totnes. She drove in every day from Kingsbridge. She suggested Angela walk up Fore Street and look for herself, and gave her a small street map. Seemed there were only three main streets—Fore, High, and Castle. Mariposa had to be on one of those. With a bit of luck she’d find it this afternoon, return in the morning, be back before Justin, and never be missed.

      Food was her next most pressing need. Catty-corner from the hotel, near the river, was a butcher shop, not a full-scale grocery store but a narrow shop front with a window display of sausages, chops, roasts, and steaks set out on a marble slab. Couldn’t be handier.

      Angela indulged in local venison steak, lamb chops, and organic corn-fed chicken. Famished as she was, she hauled her booty back to her hotel room. Chewing on a raw steak in public was not the way to pass as mortal. Putting aside the chicken and half the chops for later, she ate, her energy returning as she chewed and swallowed. Rounding off with СКАЧАТЬ