A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,27
she’d never felt threatened around either of them, she realized that they weren’t all the fearsome monsters that books and movies made them out to be. Some of them were, Trace had admitted, like those guys in the parking lot, but most of them peacefully existed alongside humans.
“So do you, like, bite people, too?” Charlotte couldn’t picture this kindly old woman doing anything remotely violent or vicious. In fact, the thought was mildly amusing.
Vik looked at her over the top of her glasses. “Honey, I haven’t fed from a live donor in years. Too much work. Besides, our blood and energy needs decrease as we get older. I take what I need from vials. But it’s the reason I like to shop so much. A pat on a salesperson’s hand gives me just the right amount of energy.”
Charlotte smiled and made a mental note to take the woman shopping soon. Who wouldn’t want to shake this kindly old woman’s hand? “Well, you can take energy from me any time, Vik.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I think you need to keep your energy for whatshisname.” The sparkle in Vik’s eyes made Charlotte blush.
“Had he always intended to take over for his father?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, the eldest usually does. But his father—my son—was really tough on him. Took after my husband, the sonovabitch. God rest his soul. Believed in stern discipline and duty first, above all else. Including matters of the heart.” Vik reached for the silver teapot and refilled her cup. “Would you like some more tea, dear?”
“Maybe in a minute,” Charlotte answered as she tucked in a few strands of red berries. “Let me finish this section and then I’ll take a break. What do you mean by matters of the heart?”
“Because our race doesn’t produce many children, love is not considered a good enough reason to marry. A union between our people is to produce offspring, first and foremost. Love is a nonessential element. Or so the Council professes.”
“You don’t sound convinced of that philosophy.”
The china clinked as Vik set down her cup. “I just want Trace to be happy, and when I see him following in his father’s footsteps, I worry about him. Being on the Council requires political savvy. Good speaking skills. Thinking on your feet. Being able to find commonality between two opposing viewpoints and determine a compromise both sides can live with. And sometimes it requires the ability to make difficult decisions.”
“Trace is very good at all those things.”
“Yes, he is, but deep down, I believe that he still doubts himself. That doubt is at the core of who he is. He doesn’t want to go back on the promise he made to his father. But I’m afraid he’s honoring that promise at the expense of his own happiness.”
That explained a lot.
“If I were his father, I’d be very proud of him.” Charlotte hesitated, her hand on one of the pillar candles. “You didn’t marry for love?”
“No, I didn’t. But it was a good union. We had three children.”
A heaviness hung in the space around her heart as she stepped back to examine the mantel.
That was it then. She lacked the DNA that would make their union an acceptable one. If only her stubborn emotions would give up the fight so she could simply enjoy what she had today, rather than worry about tomorrow. The fact that she was falling for Trace a second time just wasn’t enough.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WEATHERMAN SAYS SNOW this evening,” Mrs. Wilson said, as Charlotte gathered her things to leave. “I can feel it in the air.”
Earlier in the day, back at the mansion, Charlotte had received the woman’s panicked voice mail. Good thing she’d thought to check it from Trace’s home line, because her cell coverage out at Rainier Falls was sketchy at best. The table and chairs had been delivered to Mrs. Wilson’s home, but the fabric on the seats wasn’t what the woman had been expecting.
Gearing up for disaster, Charlotte drove to the woman’s home, but it turned out that everything was fine. She figured Mrs. Wilson had just wanted confirmation from Charlotte that it looked all right…in addition to helping her arrange the centerpiece and table settings for the dinner party she was hosting that night.
Charlotte was soon back in the Volvo, heading to Rainier Falls. Would Trace be around now? she wondered as she stared at the late-afternoon sky. A few light snowflakes hit the windshield. Given the short daylight hours and the low