"Oh. That was kind of you." She looked at the discomfort on his face, then the bag he carried, then back. "How exactly is it that you and your mother are getting into my apartment? Can vampires manipulate locks with their minds or something?"
Etienne grinned. "No. We've been using your keys. They were in your purse."
"Ah," Rachel murmured. "My purse is here. That's good to know." She would need it when she decided she was ready to leave.
"I put it up in your room before I went out this afternoon."
"You mean your room," Rachel corrected Etienne, then tilted her head inquiringly. "Which reminds me, am I going to have to sleep in a coffin after the change is finished?"
"No." He shook his head. "We don't really need them anymore. Homes in the old days were drafty, and it was hard to keep out light. Then too, there were servants and such to be concerned with. Nowadays, a good set of blackout blinds, a lock, and an alarm system are enough to do the trick."
"Oh, good." Rachel moved to his side and took the bag he'd packed for her. "I guess I'll go change my top at least. That way you can have yours back."
"Fine." He waited until she was in the hall before he asked, "Rachel?"
She turned back. "Yes?"
"Come back when you're ready. We need to talk."
Rachel was silent for a moment, then she nodded and walked upstairs. The serious expression on his face made her nervous. What did he want to discuss? Rachel suspected it was something she wasn't going to like. Perhaps there were more drawbacks to this whole business that hadn't yet been mentioned.
Deciding it wasn't something she was likely to guess at--and that even if she did, she wouldn't know if she was right until they talked--Rachel hurried to her room and set the bag on the bed. Sorting through what he'd brought back, she found an array of her rather limited wardrobe. Dress slacks and blouses made up the majority of it, ail work clothes. With a practically nonexistent social life, she hadn't needed much else besides a robe and fluffy slippers.
Rachel chose one of the tops and changed into it, but she didn't bother to change out of the jeans. They had stretched with wear and, while still tight, were becoming comfortable again. Rachel supposed they hadn't been all that tight to begin with, and had simply seemed so because she had become used to loose dress pants over the years. After a quick check of herself in the bathroom mirror, she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and headed downstairs.
Rachel tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever unpleasantness Etienne might wish to talk about, but since she wasn't sure what it was, she couldn't really do much.
Etienne paced the library, his mind racing, trying to line up his arguments. He figured that once he convinced Rachel to stay, he would have the time necessary to work on the Pudge matter. Despite her protest, he didn't think it should be too difficult to convince her to claim the man had kidnapped her--it was in her own best interest too.
Etienne decided it would be best to start by sympathizing with her. Rachel would be concerned about her job and the possibility of losing it. She would be worried about her family, her friends, and their fears and worry over her. She might even have a boyfriend out there, anxious about her well-being.
The thought caught Etienne by surprise. Until that moment, he hadn't even considered that there might be a rival for her affections. It didn't make him very happy to consider it now, but it was definitely something he needed to know.
After explaining that he understood her concerns,
Etienne would then point out that, while these were all valid concerns, the main concern was Rachel's health and well-being--as well as that of his people. He would point out that her immediate return to work and home might threaten her welfare. First, there was Pudge. The man would know she was one of them now if she returned healthy, and that would make her a possible target. Then there was her inexperience and lack of control. Should her teeth pop out, or her hunger overcome her while at work, her change would be revealed, threatening both her and his family. Worse, unable to control minds yet, Rachel wouldn't even have a chance to repair the damage she would cause. And then there was the blood issue. Not being able to feed herself was a major problem.
"Here I am."
Etienne turned from the window and looked at Rachel. She had kept on the jeans, but had changed her top to a green blouse that brought out the color of her eyes. She looked gorgeous. Breathtaking. Every argument Etienne had lined up in his head now marched gaily out of it, leaving him rather lost.
"You wanted to talk?" Rachel prompted, moving farther into the room as he merely stood staring at her.
"Yes. Talk," Etienne agreed, but that was as much as he could manage. He felt like someone had pole-axed him.
Why? It wasn't like it was the first time he'd seen the woman. He'd been aware of her beauty from the first. Perhaps the attraction was from the uncertainty on her face and the way her eyes held mild anxiety. Or the way she caught her lower lip with her teeth to worry it. Then again, it might be the fact that, instead of the covered T-shirt, she was now wearing a blouse with the top two or three buttons undone. That exposed cl**vage he had licked in his dreams--or their shared dream.
"Didn't you want to talk?"
Etienne gave himself a mental shake. "Yes. Yes, I... Look, I know you're probably upset not to be able to contact your family and friends and boyfr--Do you have a boyfriend?" he interrupted himself.
"Not at the moment," Rachel said.
"Oh, good." He grinned.
Her eyebrows rose. "Why is that good?"
"Why?" Etienne was stumped for a moment, then settled for, "Well, it's one less worry, right?"