"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Terri asked, sucking in a deep breath of the fetid New York air as if it were an elixir.
Bastien nodded in agreement, even managing not to grimace. "Beautiful."
"The sun is shining. Birds are singing. I love springtime."
She sounded like a Disney character, he thought with irritation. Next she'd break out in song. An ode to the sun.
"Sun." Bastien muttered the word as if it were a curse. How could he have forgotten about the sun? He was a bloody vampire! And yet he'd made plans and invited Terri on an outing where he would spend the day wandering outside. And sunlight was in huge supply. It was a beautiful spring day, an uncharacteris¬tically hot and sunny spring day. Bastien wouldn't even be surprised to hear that there were people sun¬bathing all over the city, their skin being eaten alive by the sun's rays. As was his. The only difference was that his body was working in overdrive to continu¬ously repair and replenish itself. Were he like others, his skin would just be aging by the minute. Instead, his body was dehydrating by the second.
On top of that, while Bastien had intended on packing a cooler full of blood to bring with him on this trip, he, the details man, had forgotten to do so. Not that this really made much difference, he sup-posed. He could hardly have walked around, bag of blood in hand as casually as others carried bottled water. Bastien had imagined he would just slip away every once in a while to replenish the much-needed liquid he was using at such an accelerated rate, but now that he was here, he saw how difficult that would be. He would have been reluctant to leave Terri alone in the neighborhood they were presently in.
"Bastien?" Terri asked, calling him back from his thoughts. "Are you going to stand at this table all day?"
He grimaced. This table at this particular flea mar¬ket had a canvas awning, and he had been standing under it for several minutes. It was the only booth that did have one, but he couldn't stand here forever. He'd have to brave the sun again sooner or later, if only to go home. And he supposed that would be the smartest thing to do, but he really, really didn't want to end this outing so prematurely.
Bastien had woken up at six o'clock this morning and hopped eagerly in the shower, his mind on the day ahead. He'd found himself whistling as he show¬ered and dressed, then made his way out to the living room to find Chris Keyes still on the couch, but awake and looking rumpled and miserable. It seemed the editor had suffered a fitful night on the sofa, wak¬ing and dozing off, then waking again, unable to do anything else since he didn't know which room he was supposed to have and would have had trouble getting there on his own anyway.
Bastien had listened with little interest to the man ramble about his rough night, until he heard mention that Terri was fetching a glass of water from the kitchen so that he might take another painkiller. Leaving the editor alone in the living room, he'd im¬mediately headed to the kitchen. There Terri was rinsing out the cup she'd fetched water in the night before. While she'd run fresh water into it, Bastien had asked her about attending a couple of flea mar¬kets with him, surprised at how nervous he felt. It wasn't until she'd turned bright, interested eyes on him and told him she'd love to go that he'd felt him¬self relax.
Assuring her that he'd take her out to breakfast be¬fore they went anywhere, Bastien excused himself. He rode the elevator down to the floor holding the Argeneau offices, and quickly wrote up a list of in¬structions for his secretary to find when she arrived on Monday. He hadn't wanted to forget to have her take care of finding out if there were any relatives that Mrs. Houlihan might have gone to in the city, or to arrange for his kitchen to be stocked, and to have her cancel any business meetings scheduled for the next week. After setting the note on her desk, he'd returned to the penthouse to be informed by a sigh¬ing Chris Keyes that Terri had gone to her room to shower and change.
Bastien had been in such a good mood as he con¬templated the day ahead, he'd taken pity on the edi¬tor and helped him to the room between the one Vincent was occupying and the one Terri was in. He'd even seen the man into the bathroom, waited patiently outside while he saw to his needs, then helped him out and onto the bed. He'd handed Chris the remote control to the television on the console against the wall opposite the bed, and promised he'd have someone deliver him a meal. Then Bastien fetched the gym bag full of clothes he'd gotten the night before and set it on the bed beside him, where it was within easy reach if the editor needed it.
Having done all that he could for Chris at the mo¬ment--or all he was willing to do--he'd gone out to the living room and found Terri dressed and ready to go. All other thoughts had been wiped from his mind at the sight of her happy excited face; and when she'd asked if they were taking a real New York cab and if they were, if she could flag it down like she'd seen done on TV, Bastien had said yes. Her excitement and pleasure as they had headed out and ridden down¬town in the taxi she flagged had carried him along right up until they'd stepped out of the cab and he'd become aware of the sun beating cheerfully down on him. It was then Bastien had realized he'd forgotten the blood. He could not believe that he had been so remiss. He was an idiot! And that idiocy was about to
see him ruin the day. He could not continue to walk around in this heat with the sun killing him.
Perhaps it would help if he bought a big floppy hat and a long-sleeved shirt from one of the booths or something. Bastien grimaced. He might as well buy a clown nose and floppy shoes, too. This day wasn't go¬ing at all as he'd hoped.
"Bastien?" Terri was suddenly at his side, concern on her face. "You look a bit... ill. Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes, I--It's just the heat and sun," he said finally. He wasn't surprised he looked sick. They had been outside for two hours, and he was really starting to feel it.
"I think I could use a break," he admitted, and sighed inwardly at the concern on her face. Now she'd think he was some pitifully weak guy who couldn't handle a little walking.
"If you like." She frowned. "You really aren't feel¬ing well, are you?"
"No, I just--" He sighed. "I forgot about the sun. I have a bit of an allergy to it."
"Oh!" She looked relieved. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"I forgot," Bastien said. Then he realized how stu¬pid that sounded. He'd hardly forget he was allergic to the sun. Then inspiration struck, and he added, "It's not really a regular thing for me. I'm just on some medication that makes me photosensitive."
"Oh." Something flickered in Terri's expression before her gaze slid over him with concern. "My husband was on medication that did that to him."
"It's nothing serious," Bastien assured her. "But the medication does make me react to sunlight, and I didn't think of that until I got out here and-- What are you doing?" he interrupted himself to ask as she pulled him from the shade and started to drag him along the street.
"We're getting you out of the sun. You should have said you had an allergy. I'd have understood." Pausing on the corner, she glanced at the through traffic, spotted an approaching taxi, and stepped off the curb. Waving one hand like a pro, as if she'd lived in New York all her life, Terri stepped back up onto the curb as the taxi put its blinker on to pull over and slid to a stop in front of them.
"Where to?" the driver asked once they were in.
Terri glanced at Bastien. "I don't know your ad¬dress."
Bastien hesitated. He really didn't want to bring their outing to an end. He just wanted to move indoors.
"Care to go to Macy's?" he asked. "It's not as cheap as the flea market, but still cheaper than England."
"Sure." She grinned.
"Some people just don't know how to behave," Terri muttered. She watched in disgust as an older female customer shrieked at the hapless cashier who had made the unfortunate mistake of trying to help her. The customer wanted to return a toaster, but didn't have a sales slip or even the box the toaster came in. When the cashier apologetically explained that she couldn't put through the return as it was, that it was company policy, the woman had gone off, and was still doing so. Did she look like a thief? she shrieked. She'd purchased the item in good faith and expected to be treated better than this at Macy's, and so on. Terri was finding it almost painful to watch. The cashier didn't deserve such abuse, and sickened by the scene, Terri turned to see Bastien watching with a frown.
"I wonder where the washrooms are," she mur¬mured, glancing around the busy store.
Bastien peered down at her. "I know," he an¬nounced. "This way."
He gestured the way they had come, and Terri fell into step beside him. Bastien led her to the es-calator. They rode up a floor, then turned right and walked a little distance.
"Up that hall," he said, helpfully. "I'll be waiting right here when you come out."
Nodding, Terri followed his directions. The door to the ladies' room was open, and Terri stepped inside and almost groaned aloud at the sight of the long line of shoppers waiting their turn at the stalls. The size of the line was daunting, and really rather incompre¬hensible to Terri, until she spotted the signs and real¬ized that half the bathroom had been closed off for cleaning.
Wasn't that just her luck? she thought. Her timing had always been bad. Well, there was nothing for it but to wait. She just hoped Bastien was a patient man.
Outside, Bastien leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, his feet at the ankles, and prepared to wait. Women always took forever in the wash¬room. He'd learned that a long time ago. Three-hundred-plus-years ago, actually. It was one thing that hadn't changed over the ages, and a fact that still bewildered him. What did they do in there for all that time? He'd asked his mother and Lissianna the question many times over the centuries, but they'd never given him a satisfactory answer.
Perhaps Terri would be the exception to the rule. Not that he minded waiting. While it was a relief to be out of the sun, a good deal of damage had already been done, and he felt horrid. A bag or two of blood would be a welcome relief. His head was pounding and his body cramping from the exposure.
Two women turned the corner and walked past him, chattering happily as they headed toward the ladies' room. And that was another thing. Women of¬ten visited the bathroom in pairs. What was that all about?
The tap-tap of shoes drew his gaze to the left as the customer who had been haranguing the poor sales-clerk downstairs came around the corner into view. She was grim-faced and mean-looking, a bitter old pill. She was the type of person Bastien had always preferred biting in the past--back when feeding off living humans was necessary. Bastien had always tended toward biting people he didn't like. It just caused less guilt than feasting on someone sweet and nice and unsuspecting. He'd often chosen people who were criminals, or the selfish, but the mean-spirited were always his favorite. Bastien had taken great delight in leaving the crusty old nasties feeling weak and confused.
He smiled pleasantly as this crusty old biddy came abreast of him, and received a sneer for his trouble. Oh, yes--she was the sort he would have delighted in taking down a peg. In the past, while taking their blood, he'd often taken the opportunity to put the thought in these nasty people's heads that they should be kinder to those around them, which had always left him with a sense of satisfaction. It had felt almost like he was doing the world a favor by feeding on them.
Bastien stilled as she moved past him and he caught a whiff of her. Blood--sweet and heady. He felt his cramps intensify, and tried to ignore them by ponder¬ing the woman's blood type. She was a diabetic, he recognized from her scent. And she was a diabetic who either didn't know she was, or who didn't take care of the problem. He was guessing the latter. He was also guessing that she had an open cut some¬where, or the scent wouldn't be so strong.
He watched her walk down the hall and disappear through the bathroom door. A moment later however, she came marching back out. And march was the only word for it; the woman was obviously on the warpath.
"If you're waiting for someone, you can expect a long wait," she informed him with almost gleeful anger. "They've got half the stalls closed for cleanup, leaving a ridiculous line. Idiot women! They should be complaining, like I plan on doing. Service used to be important."
Some people just weren't happy unless they had something to bitch about, Bastien thought with a sigh. He would definitely have done the world a fa¬vor by biting her, if he was still a biter.
A whiff of the sweet scent of blood hit him again as she passed. This time, it was stronger, which could only mean the open cut was on this side of her. The concentrated scent this time caused concentrated pain, and Bastien half doubled over with it. He really needed blood. He should have stayed out of the sun. He was an idiot, and one who he very much feared was about to ruin not just the trip around the flea market, but the entire day. He was going to have to return to the penthouse early just so he could feed. The task would take only a matter of minutes, but their outing would certainly be ruined.
"What's the matter with you?"
Bastien glanced up to see the biddy staring at him with disgust.
"What are you, one of those drug addicts?" she asked, and again there was a hint of glee in her words. She was enjoying the idea of his suffering.
Bastien really wished biting was still allowed; he'd give her an attitude adjustment like-- But feeding was allowed in emergencies, he reminded himself. And judging by the cramps he was suffering, he was reaching an emergency point. He straightened slowly and offered the old crank a charming smile.
Terri sighed with relief as she closed the stall door behind her. Bastien had probably decided she'd sneaked out a bathroom window and run off or something by this point. If she hadn't had to go to the bathroom so badly, and feared losing her spot in line, she would have gone back out to explain what was taking so long. She would have told him to go shop, maybe have a coffee and she'd meet up with him somewhere in half an hour.
She would have been off on her time estimate, however, Terri thought as she took care of business, then left the stall. She was in such a rush, her hands were still a bit damp from washing as she hurried out of the bathroom and up the hall toward where Bastien leaned patiently against the wall.
"I'm sorry," she blurted as she reached him. "They were--"
"Cleaning the washroom and had half the stalls blocked off," Bastien finished for her soothingly. "Yes, I know. One of the other shoppers told me. It's all right. Not your fault."
"Oh." Terri relaxed, glad to know he hadn't been left wondering what on earth she could be up to all this time, and that he didn't seem angry about the wait. "Well, I was as quick as I could be."
"I'm sure you were. Shall we go?"
Nodding, Terri fell into step beside him to walk back out into the store. She glanced at Bastien curi-ously as they walked, wondering what was different, then she realized that he didn't look quite as unwell as he had. He didn't look 100 percent, but getting him out of the sun had already brought about some improvement.
"You're feeling a bit better?" she asked.
"A bit," he admitted. "Not back to normal yet, but I'm much improved."
"Good." Terri smiled at him. "Perhaps a little more time out of the sun will right you completely."
"That and a bit more lunch," he agreed.
She looked at him with surprise. "Did you wander off and have something to eat while I was in the ladies' room?"
"What?" He glanced sharply at her as they stepped on the down escalator.
"You said a bit more lunch," she pointed out.
"Oh." He relaxed again. "I meant a bit of lunch. I misspoke."
"Oh." She nodded. "We could do that now if you like."
"Let's shop around first," he suggested as they reached the first floor. "It isn't quite noon yet, and we are here at Macy's. We may as well get a bit of shop¬ping in. Then we can break for lunch and decide where you want to go next."
"Okay." Terri agreed absently, her feet slowing as they passed the cashier who had been berated in such a humiliating manner earlier. The mean customer was still there, but her whole demeanor had changed. She was smiling apologetically and patting the girl's hand.
"I'm so sorry, dear. I don't know what I was think¬ing of, treating you that way. I shouldn't expect you to break the rules for me, and really--I don't even have the box for the toaster, do I? Please forgive my earlier behavior," the woman was saying.
Terri's eyebrows rose. "Wow," she whispered. "What an about-face."
"Hmmm." Bastien just shrugged. "She must have got an attitude adjustment."
"Well, no one needed it as much as she did, but it's still rather surprising. I wouldn't have believed that someone could change their attitude that swiftly if I hadn't just seen it."
"Life is full of surprises," he said mildly, then smiled at her. "So, where do you want to start? Worn-ens wear? Jewelry? Perfume?"
"Are you getting tired?"
"No." Bastien glanced at Terri and forced a smile for her benefit. In truth, he was exhausted. The bitter old biddy he'd snacked on had eased the worst of his hunger, but not all of it, and he was still suffering. He could use another pint or so of blood, but hadn't had the opportunity to take one. And no one had seemed as appropriate a victim.
Bastien smiled to himself at the memory. He'd en¬joyed changing that old woman's attitude. She'd been much more pleasant once he'd finished with her. Of course, it was just a temporary adjustment, but at least the salesclerk in the store had benefitted. Perhaps she wouldn't go home today hating her job, the public, and the world at large.
"Oh, look! Victoria's Secret." Terri stopped walk¬ing and simply stared at the storefront with pleasure.
Bastien smiled at her almost awed expression. The woman was so easily pleased. After shopping at Macy's they'd had lunch in a little deli, he picking at some sort of chicken sandwich they'd both ordered while she chattered away and devoured hers. The food actually tasted all right--pretty good, in fact-- but after years of not eating, he didn't have the stom¬ach for large quantities. After lunch they'd wandered, ducking into a music and discount DVD store. Terri had been very good about keeping to the shaded ar¬eas to keep him out of the sun. Now they stood in shadow under one of the many construction scaffolds that seemed to fill the city, and she gaped at the store across the street with its half-naked dummies in the window.
"We should go in," Bastien suggested.
"Yes," she breathed. Many women would have fussed that he, a man, would hardly have any interest in visiting a women's lingerie store. Then they would have said, "Well, all right," as if really reluctant to drag him in, despite the fact that they were dying to go. Terri didn't bother with that. She wanted to go in; he had suggested she should, and she had agreed. End of story. It was wonderful.
"Come on." Taking her elbow, he urged her to the corner as the WALK sign began to flash. They hustled across the street, reaching the opposite side and ducking into the Victoria's Secret just as the light turned red.
Terri paused inside the door, her gaze shifting quickly over everything. Perfumes and escalators were in the center, and silk and lace everywhere else. Bastien could almost imagine her mind working out where to go first. Left, right, up? She went left. A log¬ical move, he silently approved. It allowed them to work the store in a clockwise fashion.
The first clerk they came across was friendly. She greeted them pleasantly and suggested they approach her if they had any questions, then she left them alone. Terri moved through the nighties in the area, oohing over this, ahhing over that, and at last they made their way around the store to the escalators and the second story full of panties and bras.
"Is there something I can help you with?" another woman asked.
Terri set down the pretty purple lace panties she'd been looking at and smiled. A beautiful, stick-thin model of a salesgirl was eyeing her in a condescending manner. "No, thanks," she said. "I'm just looking."
"Hmm." The woman pursed her lips and looked her over as if she were dog meat.
Bastien was off to the side, trying to stay out of the way. He had noticed that Terri seemed to flit about, looking here and there, and rarely stopping. He had found that if he followed her too closely, he ended up having to step to the side or backtrack to get out of the way as she whirled and changed direction. Such movements could be quite abrupt, as her eyes were constantly skating over the area ahead, and if she saw something that caught her eye, she beetled off toward it. If not, she veered off another way, or turned back. It was just easier to give her space to maneuver. But now Bastien moved forward, his protective instincts coming to the fore. This clerk obviously wasn't im¬pressed with Terri's attire, her worn jeans and T-shirt.
"We'll call on you if we need any help," he spoke up, drawing the woman's eye and her full attention.
Her attitude changed in a heartbeat, her lips un-pursing to become a warm smile. "Well, hello."
The clerk spoke as if stumbling across a lovely trea¬sure in her store. Bastien tried not to grimace. He was a good-looking man, and used to women paying him attention, but he had seen the way this one's eyes had skated from his face to the expensive watch he wore, to the family signet ring with the Argeneau A etched in diamonds. She smelled money, and liked the smell.
Bastien glanced toward Terri to see how she was reacting, only to find that she'd moved off and was now examining a rather pretty black satin bra that would look quite lovely on her. At least, it did in his mind as he imagined it. Forgetting about the clerk, he moved after Terri.
"That's lovely."
"Yes, it is," she agreed with a grin.
"There are matching panties for it." The clerk had followed, and now she couldn't be more helpful. Moving past them she returned with several pairs. "Let's see. I'm a small. That would make you... what?" She glanced down to consider Terri. "An extra-large?" she suggested innocently. Then she turned to Bastien and added in a husky voice, "I can model these for you."
Bastien had to bite his lip as Terri's eyes nearly popped out of her head. She flushed, then seemed to go terribly calm. Her voice was kind when she spoke. "That won't be necessary, I'm sure. And no, I'm not an extra-large. But don't feel bad for making the er¬ror. It's the boobs," she said bluntly. "It can be terri¬ble being so well endowed. They often give the first impression that you're large everywhere." Her gaze dropped briefly over the woman's almost flat chest, and she commented, "You're lucky you don't have any at all to cause that problem."
While the clerk choked on that, Terri added, "Don't worry, though, a little more experience in your career and I'm sure you'll get the hang of sizing your customers properly."
Bastien grinned at the furious clerk over Terri's head, enjoying the woman's discomfort. Had he thought Terri needed protecting? Obviously not.
Terri turned to him and said, "I think I've had enough shopping for now. How about an ice cream?" She didn't wait for an answer, but marched off toward the escalator at a quick clip.
"You handled that beautifully," Bastien said as he caught up to her.
"I was a bitch," Terri responded. "And halfway through my ice cream I'm going to feel horrible for behaving so badly."
He stared at her blankly. This was her idea of being a bitch? And she'd feel bad after the way the clerk had treated her? If so, then it did seem Terri needed pro¬tecting. From herself, Bastien decided. She'd handled the woman with class and much more kindly than most would have. Others would have got huffy, or just plain freaked. Someone else might have com¬plained to management and had the girl fired. Terri had merely given her a gentle set-down. And she felt bad for it! Incredible.