Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)(69)

“Pretty much,” Francis agreed as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. “But as I said, it will pass eventually.”

“How long is eventually?” Mary asked at once.

Francis shrugged helplessly. “It varies with each couple. And how it ends does too. For some it stops abruptly, and for others it just slowly fades over time, like a radio being slowly turned down.”

“How long though?” Mary insisted.

Francis glanced to Russell. “How long would you say it was for us?”

Russell shrugged. “A year and a half, maybe closer to two.”

“Years?” Mary breathed with dismay.

“I have heard of couples that were only projecting for one year though,” Francis reassured her. Biting his lip, he then added, “Of course, I have also heard of couples that projected for as much as four years or more too.”

“Years?” she repeated with horror.

Francis nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I suspect that is part of the reason new life mates tend to spend the first year or so mostly at home.”

“That and the fact they cannot drag themselves out of bed long enough to actually do much else,” Russell said with amusement.

“That too,” Francis agreed.

Mary stared at them blankly for a minute, and then stood up abruptly, muttering, “I need to visit the ladies’ room.”

She didn’t wait for anyone to comment, but moved quickly through the tables to get to the hall with the sign reading WASHROOMS. It was a long hall and while she expected the bathrooms to be at the front, they weren’t. She passed a door with a sign that read EMPLOYEES ONLY, and then another that had a small window in it that looked into the restaurant’s large kitchen. Then there was a long stretch of wall before she reached a door with a male symbol on it. The women’s bathroom was the next door, the last one before the hallway ended at an emergency exit.

Sighing, she pushed her way inside the ladies’ room.

The tiled room had three stalls, all presently empty, she noted with relief. It also had a counter with two sinks in it and a mirror over the sinks. Mary immediately moved to the sink and turned the cold tap on, then automatically glanced up and blinked in surprise at the young woman peering out of the mirror at her. She stared at her reflection for a moment, and then shook her head. Her reflection did the same and Mary lowered her head, wondering how long it would take for her to get used to this new her.

Probably about as long as she would be projecting her thoughts to everyone, Mary thought grimly, and cupped her hands to catch some of the cold water splashing out of the tap. She then splashed it on her face.

It was a bit alarming to think that every little thought she had was being broadcast to any and every immortal around her. But it was positively humiliating to think that every time she glanced at Dante and thought about . . . well, anything, someone would be picking up on it.

Sighing, Mary turned off the tap and straightened to look at herself again, ignoring the water that slid from her face to run down her neck in rivulets before it was absorbed into the collar of her T-shirt.

“You can do this,” she told herself solemnly. “You may look like Barbie, as Francis put it, but you are a beautiful, intelligent and mature woman. We are all grown-ups. They’ve been through this themselves and obviously been around others who went through this. Stop acting like a shrinking virgin and deal . . . and maybe try not to think so much about Dante naked,” Mary tacked on with a grimace, and then added, “And sex with Dante.”

Yeah, that would work, she thought dryly, and turned the tap back on. Just saying the words had brought a tsunami of memories and images to her mind. Every one of them X rated. Mary splashed her face twice this time, then stayed bent over the sink and reached out to grab paper towels from the paper towel dispenser. Her top was already a mess with a hole in the side and a couple stains that laundering hadn’t removed. She didn’t need to add to its disheveled state, so she quickly dried her face before straightening this time.

“Think of something else,” Mary instructed herself firmly. “That article, the ‘Profile of Cognitive Aging,’ that you read last week, was interesting. Think of that.”

Mary paused for a minute and focused on the article she’d read in one of the medical journals she still got. Once she was satisfied that her thoughts were purely boring and safe and miles away from anything to do with sex or Dante, she nodded to her reflection and turned to leave the bathroom.

There was a man in the hall when she stepped into it. He was leaning against the wall outside the men’s room. She automatically offered a polite smile as moved toward him, but then paused as he raised his hand and she heard a sharp hiss-thump sound and felt something punch her in the chest. Glancing down with confusion, she stared at the red tipped dart protruding from her shirt just above her breast. Instinct made her reach for it, but before her hand could connect, she noticed that the floor was leaping up to meet her.


Mary had barely left the table when Francis pulled a notepad out of his pocket and began writing down items.

Dante immediately leaned toward him and began to read the list aloud, “Toothbrush, men’s and women’s razors, panties?” Pausing, he straightened and asked, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I am doing?” Francis asked dryly. “I am making a shopping list.”