Burke and the Vampire Page 5
“Instinct,” Reynaud replied with a brief smile. “He could have killed me. He had several chances while I was dealing with the couple Morra attacked, as well as other times. He didn’t.”
“Perhaps he had an ulterior motive. He knows what you are. He might have thought he could ingratiate himself with you, the first time you two met, and then use you to find others of us to destroy.”
“But he didn’t,” Reynaud said, although he seemed to take what Antoine had said into consideration as he slanted his gaze to look at Burke.
Burke shook his head, staring directly at Antoine. “I not that conniving,” he told him with all the sincerity he could muster. “Think about it. I know who is and isn’t a vampire. Have I killed any who weren’t preying on humans? As the King, you should be aware if I have. I’ve seen plenty of decent ones and left them alone.” He paused, then added, “All right, apparently I did kill a man who worked for Reynaud, but as he told you it was their fault. He appeared to be attacking humans, although it was all a set-up to find me. I’m not a mind reader so I did what I thought was necessary.”
“He has a point, Antoine,” Reynaud said. “He did follow me once, on the night we first met.” He glanced at Burke, smiling. “You’re good, but you should be aware of shop windows. I caught your reflection in one as I turned the corner onto my street.” Returning his attention to Antoine, he said, “He found out where I live and could have entered during the day to kill me. Of course at that point I didn’t know he could sense our kind, so I wasn’t worried. At best, I thought he was attracted to me and was stalking me for a very different reason.”
Burke snorted. “I don’t ‘stalk’ someone I might be interested in. I’m not that desperate, thanks.”
“I would hope not.”
Antoine had been listening with apparent interest to what they were saying. Now he asked, “Are you sexually interested in Reynaud, Mr. Gareau?”
“That, your majesty,” Burke replied with a sneer, “is none of your damned business.”
“Easy, Burke,” Reynaud said. “He’s within his rights to ask as he is the King and I’m one of his subjects.”
“But I’m not.”
“No, Mr. Gareau, you aren’t,” Antoine said. “My question still stands as I have to be certain I can trust you. If I decide I don’t…” He spread his hands.
“You kill me? Oh, while we’re at it, my name is Burke. I’d appreciate it if you’d call me that. It would show you don’t see me as your enemy.”
“I haven’t decided if I do or I don’t, but I’ll accede to your wishes, as long as you call me Antoine.” He chuckled softly. “I’ll say one thing for you, Burke, you have guts.”
“It’s more like I’m still afraid of you and it comes out that way.”
“There’s nothing to fear if you’ve told Reynaud, and me, the whole truth.”
“Despite what you might think, I have no reason to lie. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I do not kill a vampire unless he’s attacking a human. End of story.”
“I hope Reynaud has made it clear to you that is part of what he and his team are supposed to do. Stop and capture them, when possible. Kill them if not.”
“Oh, yeah. He also pointed out I’ve got one big advantage over them. When I sense that a vampire is not benign, I can follow them without them knowing I’m around. I’ve become very good at that. But—” he held up a finger, “—as I said, I don’t kill them unless they try to attack someone. Then it’s all systems go as far as I’m concerned.”
Antoine turned to Reynaud. “Morra didn’t know he was there?”
Reynaud shook his head. “Burke took him completely by surprise.”
Tapping his fingers together, Antoine looked thoughtfully at Burke. “You could be useful to us. Morra was an Old vampire. If he didn’t know you were around, that speaks well for your…abilities I suppose we could call them. Do you mind if I ask why you resort to a gun with silver bullets, not a silver sword or stakes?”
“Come on, even you can figure that one out. I think I’d stand out in a crowd if I had a sword slung over my back, and stakes would be damned bulky.”
Reynaud grinned. “He has a point, Antoine. He’s not a dhampir who has the ability to make its weapon of choice invisible.”
“Dhampir,” Burke said. “They’re the ones who are part human, part vampire, right?”
“Indeed,” Antoine replied. “The bane of our existence because they don’t care if we’re good or bad. To them, every one of us needs to be destroyed.”
Burke smirked. “Then you’d better be glad I’m not one of them.”
“Trust me, if you were you wouldn’t be sitting here talking with me,” Antoine said. “In your blood lust, you’d have tried to kill me if you could—and Reynaud when you first met him.”
“Which you couldn’t have,” Reynaud added. “They’re deadly, but not invincible. One slip and they’re history.”
“No slip and you’re history.”
“Had to go there, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” Burke smirked before asking Antoine, “How do you think I can be some use to you?”
“You would be our secret weapon against rogues,” Antoine replied.
“Are there that many of them?”
“Unfortunately, more than we’d like. Some have personal grudges against humans or vampires. Others have a thirst for fresh blood because they were turned well before the advent of bagged blood. They feel it’s their right to feed as they wish and damn the consequences.” Antoine smiled dryly. “They consider themselves elite and entitled, rather like some of the younger humans these days, I’m afraid.”
“Not only the younger ones,” Burke said sourly. “I can think of a few older ones who think they can do no wrong because they hold positions of power.” He sighed. “But that’s a discussion for another day. What would you want me to do?”
“Stay in close touch with Reynaud. When a rogue surfaces, he’ll let you know what he, or she, looks like, their habits, etcetera. Then you look for them and do what you do best.”
“Design a computer game with them as one of the hostiles the hero is after.”
“Excuse me?”
Reynaud chuckled. “He’s a software designer for a computer gaming company.”
“I see. Well, that’s not quite what I meant by what you do best. In this case…”
“I get it,” Burke said, rolling his eyes. “Track the rogue down and take him out whether he’s attacking someone or not. I can do that, as long as you’ve got proof he is a rogue.” He shot a hard look at Antoine. “I don’t want you sending me after some enemy of yours, using that as an excuse.”
Antoine gave him a withering look in return. “I deal with my enemies myself, or with Reynaud’s assistance if necessary. I don’t need some puny…some human, no matter how gifted, doing that for me.”
“Be careful,” Burke cautioned. “You might be tempting fate, saying that.”
“Do not tell me what to do!”
“Why not? I’m not one of your subjects.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Reynaud ordered. “This is getting us nowhere. Burke, are you willing to help us?”
Taking a deep breath, Burke nodded. “As long as he—” he pointed a finger at Antoine, “—realizes I’ll still keep doing what I have been.”
“I’ll accept that proviso,” Antoine replied, sounding as if it galled him to say so.
“Thank you.” Burke checked the time, and yawned. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going home. It’s after three in the morning and this human is more than ready for bed. Reynaud, do you want a ride back to the city?”
“If you would. Give me a few minutes to talk with Antoine alone, first.”
“Sure. I’ll go keep the butler company,” Burke replied as he left the library.
* * * *
“Do you truly trust him?” Antoine asked as soon as Burke was gone. “Or are you letting your hormones speak for you?”
Antoine smiled. “After all our years together, I do. That still begs the question. Do you trust him to do as he’s promised? Are you quite certain he isn’t using you?”
“He doesn’t need me. Not the way you’re implying. He can look at someone and know whether they’re a vampire. I think he likes the idea of being involved with taking out the really evil ones among us. If he’s telling the truth, and I’m very certain he is, he can sense those who are what he calls benign and leaves them alone.”
“All right. Your instincts have always served us well. Just don’t let your personal feelings for this human get in the way of your duty to me and to the vampire community.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, get out of here. It’s not very long until dawn.”
“Says the vampire who can stay up well past his bedtime without any consequences.”
“You, however…”
“Will fall dead asleep two hours after the sun comes up, whether I like it or not,” Reynaud replied, smiling. “I’m out of here.”
* * * *
“I presume he’s going to let me live,” Burke said wryly when Reynaud found him talking to the butler—who wasn’t really a butler but one of Reynaud’s elite team members charged with protecting the house from intruders.
Reynaud grinned. “For the moment at least.”
“Good,” Burke replied, walking out the front door and down to where he’d parked. “Let’s move it before he changes his mind.”
“He won’t, as long as you don’t give him a reason to.”
“Not planning on it. If I did, I’d lose you as a friend.” Burke smiled at him before unlocking the car. When they were in, and on their way down the driveway to the gate, he asked, “Why did you decide to ride with me instead of flying home?”
“I like your company. Despite what you may think, I don’t have many friends other than Antoine.”
“And probably no human friends,” Burke said wryly.
“A couple. Well, acquaintances more than friends. People I’ve had to deal with who are available at night.”
“That must be tough. Speaking of which, how much longer can you stay awake? Will I have to carry you into your house? Probably not an option. I don’t want to be toting your charred remains.” Burke said all that without cracking a smile.
“Smartass,” Reynaud muttered. “I can tolerate a brief exposure to sunlight, and stay awake for a couple of hours after it comes up. At that point I fall asleep no matter where I am.”
Burke grinned. “I can see it now. You’re halfway up the stairs to your bedroom and boom, next thing you know you wake up at the bottom of them, covered in bruises.”
“That hasn’t happened. On the sofa, sure, when I get engrossed in a movie and ignore my internal clock when it warns me it’s time to get to bed.”
“Your internal clock?”
“All vampires have one that lets us know when dawn is coming so we can seek shelter.”
“That makes sense.”
By then, they were on the road heading back into the city. They arrived at Reynaud’s house just as the sky began to lighten.
“I’ll see you tonight at the club?” Burke asked as Reynaud was getting out of the car.
“Barring problems, I’ll be there.”
“Oh, I should have asked. Are you, or is Antoine, going to call off the dogs?”
Laughing, Reynaud replied, “I’m certain he has, but I’ll make it a point to let my team know The Hunter—” he made finger quotes, “—is no longer a problem for us.”
“Thanks. Okay, see you tonight around…when?”
“Say nine?”
“Eight. I do have to work Monday. First one there gets to grab a table on the balcony, if possible.” Burke chuckled. “You can use your mind tricks to be certain there is.”
“Don’t laugh. I might.” Reynaud grinned, closed the car door, and a moment later entered his house.
Burke watched him, wondering as he did if there was any chance they might become more than friends. It wouldn’t bother him in the least if it happened, even though he knew it would be friends with benefits and nothing more. Vampires do not allow themselves to fall for humans, I’m sure. On the other hand, I haven’t fallen for him…I don’t think…so it won’t be a problem.
Chapter 6
Given the hour he got home, Burke didn’t get up until a few minutes after two Sunday afternoon. He’d cleaned house on Saturday, so all he had left was doing laundry. Not his favorite chore, but necessary. While he was putting it in the washing machine, he wondered if Reynaud did his own or if he had a housekeeper to handle day-to-day chores. Somehow I doubt he does, unless there are vampires who hire out for jobs like that to keep busy. I mean, what is there to do after dark other than go bar-hopping, or to movies, or whatever, unless they can find nighttime jobs. He laughed, imagining the bartenders at some of the clubs he’d visited being vampires. They aren’t, though, or I’d have picked up on it.
“I’ll stick to living during the day,” he said as he folded his laundry. “I may work late some nights, but at least it’s by choice, not because I can’t go out in the sunlight.” He’d met a couple of computer programmers who worked from home, but that held no appeal for him. Being stuck at home 24/7? No thanks.
With the laundry finished and put away, he fixed supper and ate while watching the news and a rerun of The X Files, because it amused him. I know what’s out there, at least one part of it. Not sure about the rest, but…
Then he got ready for his date, if that’s what he wanted to call it. He debated dressing a bit nicer than he usually did, decided the hell with it, and went with jeans and a T-shirt—normal fare on a warm New Orleans evening.
After finding a parking spot in the lot he normally used, he walked to the club, keeping his senses open for any wandering vampires. Not that he could do anything if he ran into one that was hunting. He’d left his gun at home.
When he entered the club, he was glad to see it wasn’t too busy, making it easier to get a beer without having to fight his way through a crowd at the bar. Then he went upstairs and out to the balcony. Reynaud was seated at a table. He smiled when Burke joined him, saying under his breath, “I got it without having to mesmerize anyone into leaving.”
Burke laughed. “Good to know.” He took a drink, wondering what to talk about. They’d pretty much covered who they were and what they did the last two times they’d been here. Well, who we are that we could talk about in public.
Reynaud seemed equally at a loss for words, which would make for a very boring evening if they stayed. Then he said, “You haven’t seen my house, except from the outside. If you want, we can finish our drinks and…” He paused and Burke immediately wondered if he was regretting suggesting that. “I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will. I’ve got a thing for old homes, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Given that you live in one by choice, I have.”
“I hope you haven’t modernized it, which brings up another question. How long have you lived there?”
Reynaud chuckled, saying softly, “I presume you mean overall, not this time around. It was built in 1841 and I’ve lived in it since then, although obviously not as ‘me’. It belonged to my great-grand-father, as far as anyone who asks is told. He passed it down to his son, who moved to the city when that happened. Unfortunately, he died while on a visit to New York, and as he’d never married his bastard son inherited it. Then I appeared after my ‘father’ and his wife died in a tragic accident when I was twenty-seven.”
“His wife?”
“Yes. An acquaintance of mine at the time, who was…” Reynaud glanced around, lowering his voice even more so that Burke h
ad to lean in to hear him. “She was like me and needed a safe place to stay but couldn’t afford her own home, so we came up with the idea that we should pose as husband and wife. We traveled quite extensively, since we knew there would come a time when we had to recreate ourselves. As I said, ‘we’ died when ‘I’ was twenty-seven. I inherited the house and here I am.”
“You’ve created quite a history for yourself,” Burke commented, understanding why it was necessary. “How long have you lived in the house this time?”
“For five years.” Reynaud finished his wine and then suggested they continue their discussion when they were at his place.
* * * *
“How much of this is original?” Burke asked as Reynaud gave him a tour of the house.
“The majority of the furniture, the chandeliers, the fireplaces of course, all of the floors and woodwork. About twenty-five years ago I hired a company run by two vampire friends of Antoine’s to repaint, as the old paint was fading badly. The colors are more vibrant than the original ones. I got tired of living in, well not doom-and-gloom but with pale walls, in comparison to what they are now.”
“I love the brick wall and fireplace in your bedroom,” Burke told him. “The patio is lovely.”
“Thank you. I use it quite often, once the sun’s gone down.”
Reynaud led the way back to the living room, with its deep carmine walls and matching drapes. In contrast, the woodwork had been painted white and the sofa, chairs, and rug between them were in shades of cream and beige.
“Are these originals?” Burke asked, studying one of the paintings in a gilt frame that hung on the walls.
“Yes. That one is by William Hunt. Would you like a beer, or some wine?”
“Beer, please.” Burke followed him into the kitchen, which like his own had been upgraded with modern appliances, although the cabinets, the brick exterior wall, and the one over the fireplace had obviously been part of the house since it was built.