TALL DARK AND HUNGRY Page 0,22

could watch the way her eyes danced with humor when she spoke, and the way her face became expressive and animated, and how her hands flew about like two birds as she de¬scribed things. He'd found her charming and quite distracting on the way home from the airport.

"Well, give us a call if you have trouble finding Chris's apartment, and I'll put him on the phone to give you directions."

Bastien nodded. She was telling him to get off the phone and get moving. It felt almost like a rejection. It seemed she wasn't as eager to sit there talking as he. He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, I'll do that. Bye." He disengaged the phone before she could re¬spond, embarrassed and a touch angry at his eager¬ness to talk to her. She was only a human, he reminded himself--not really worth wasting time on. She'd be around for another thirty to fifty years, then drop dead, be put in the ground, and turn to dust as Josephine had.

Bastien swallowed hard at the memory of the one love he'd had in his life. He'd been young at the time, only eighty-eight, and had spent his life until then sewing his wild oats but not caring very deeply for the women he'd sown them with. Until Josephine. He'd fallen for her hard. So hard, in fact, that he'd ig¬nored that he could read her mind: a sure sign, his mother always said, that a couple would make bad life mates. He had revealed himself to her, begging her to join him in eternal night--or what he had thought was eternal night back then; they'd had no clue in those days that they would eventually be allowed to walk in sunlight thanks to the advent of blood banks and the safety they offered.

"Josephine." The name was a whisper on his lips as he put the cell phone away. The great love of his ex¬istence. He'd offered her eternal life and all his riches, which was no small sum. But, repelled by what he claimed to be, she'd turned him down cold. Josephine had believed him soulless. She'd been so terrified of him, she'd dropped to her knees and begged God for immediate deliverance. She'd feared jeopardizing her own soul by even knowing him. Bastien had been forced to wipe her memory and give her up. He'd stood by and watched her fall in love with a human, marry him, bear his children, age, and die. It had bro¬ken his heart.

A sudden honk from behind made Bastien stiffen, then glance in the rearview mirror. Someone was leaving work late and wanted out. He was blocking the way.

Forcing himself to move, Bastien shifted the car into drive and eased out onto the street, turning right to avoid having to wait for the traffic to clear. He drove up several streets without really thinking, then decided he'd better soon figure out what he was do¬ing or he could end up driving around all night.

His first priority was Mrs. Houlihan, but he didn't have a clue where to start looking. As Vincent had made him realize, he didn't even know her first name, let alone if she had family to go to. He presumed she did. The woman would hardly be walking the streets, homeless and hungry and cold just to escape him. Would she?

Bastien grimaced to himself. For all he knew, she would. He didn't know a thing about his ex-house-keeper. Which meant the woman was not a matter he could deal with at the moment. He'd have to leave her for now and put his secretary on the matter to¬morrow. Meredith had several dealings with Mrs. Houlihan, and might know more than he. If not, she could find out who had hired the woman and what was known about her. Bastien couldn't even recall how long the woman had been working for him. She'd been just another faceless employee until today. With that issue on hold, Bastien decided to head to... What the hell was that editor's name again?

"Chris!" He spoke the same triumphantly as his memory kicked in. Christopher. Keyes. He'd see to getting the man some clothes from his apartment, pick up some subs from... whereever they sold subs, and head back to the penthouse where he could relax and figure out what to do with his houseguests until he had a new housekeeper to take care of them.

Even with his efficient secretary on the job, finding a replacement for Mrs.