After breakfast, Thomas wandered through the house. Even that surprised him. He had entered Pecan Hill as a thief, yet Bedelia seemed completely unconcerned that he now had access to nearly every room in the mansion. It was a level of trust he had never experienced before.
As he walked down one of the long hallways, he noticed another boy standing quietly by a window.
Thomas smiled. This must be Noah. He thought.
The boy glanced toward him, then lowered his eyes to the floor again.
"You're Noah?" Thomas asked.
After a moment, the boy nodded.
"Yes. I am Noah Jenkins."
"I'm Thomas Kelly." He offered a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you."
Noah hesitated before replying.
"I am glad to meet you too."
Thomas stepped a little closer.
"I heard you've been living here for a while."
"Yes."
"And Miss Bedelia has been helping you?"
"Yes."
Thomas quickly realized conversation did not come easily for the other boy.
"She's a very nice woman."
For just a second, Noah looked at the floor before answering.
"Yes, she is."
There was another long silence. Then Noah spoke matter-of-factly.
"She's a vampire."
Thomas didn't think he heard right.
"I'm sorry...what did you say?"
"She's a vampire."
A grin crept across Thomas's face.
"Very funny."
"I am not joking," he flatly stated.
Thomas laughed, shaking his head.
"Come on, Noah, vampires aren't real."
The younger boy finally lifted his eyes long enough to meet Thomas's.
"Oh, yes. She is a vampire."
Thomas felt the smile slowly fade from his face.
"I heard what happened last night," Noah continued. "She could have killed you. You were very lucky."
Thomas stared at him. The words should have been ridiculous. Instead...
His mind drifted back to the library. She had been across the enormous room. He had turned toward the French doors. Then—
She had been standing directly in front of him. No footsteps. No time.
Just suddenly there.
Then he remembered the things she had said. The way she had looked at him. The calm certainty in her voice.
A small knot began tightening in his stomach.
"I'm..." his mind reeled, "in a house with a vampire?"
He shook his head.
"No. That's crazy."
People didn't become vampires. That only happened in books and movies. Didn't it?
Yet the question refused to leave him.
He looked back at Noah.
"Will you come with me?"
Noah nodded once.
"I want to ask Bedelia," stated Thomas.
The truth was, Thomas wasn't entirely sure why he wanted Noah beside him. Perhaps if the younger boy came too, somehow it would make the conversation safer.
In reality, it would make no difference at all.
Bedelia Marie Dubois would answer his questions exactly as she intended—with perfect calm, complete honesty, because Bedelia was, and always would be, Bedelia.
They found the mistress of the house sitting in the library, comfortably settled into an easy chair with a book in her hands. She looked up as the two boys entered.
Thomas took the lead.
"Bedelia," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I have a question."
She closed the book and laid it gently on the chair arm.
"A question?" she asked with a smile. "Certainly. What is it, Thomas?"
Thomas glanced at Noah before returning his attention to her.
"I know this is going to sound kind of strange, but Noah told me...well..." he kept hesitating, "he told me you're a vampire."
Bedelia smiled, then looked at Noah.
"Noah, did you tell Thomas that?"
For only a moment, Noah looked up before lowering his eyes once again.
"Yes, Bedelia. I did."
"And why?" she asked.
"I wanted to be honest," he said.
Her smile grew warmer.
"Honesty is always the right choice, Noah. Never be afraid of the truth."
Now Thomas shifted uneasily.
"Yeah...but he still said you're a vampire."
Bedelia looked back at him as calmly as if he had asked whether she preferred tea or coffee.
"Yes," she replied. "He is quite correct."
Thomas stared at her words in disbelief.
"I'm sorry...what?"
"I am a vampire."
For several seconds, Thomas simply stared at her. His mind refused to process what he had just heard.
"You...you're a vampire?"
"Yes."
She leaned back in the comfortable chair.
"I'm about two hundred and eighty-six years old."
She paused for a moment.
"Actually...two hundred and eighty-seven."
A playful smile crossed her face.
"I do believe I've aged another year."
Thomas stood speechless.
Bedelia laughed, humor in her eyes.
"But I think I wear my age rather well. Don't you?"
Thomas looked at Noah. Then back at Bedelia. Finally, he shook his head.
"No."
"No?" she asked.
"I don't believe you. There are no such things as vampires."
Bedelia nodded pleasantly at his doubt.
"I didn't expect you would. You know," Bedelia said, "I once had to prove it to Detective Andrew Kensington."
Thomas frowned.
"You did?"
"Yes. He insisted on shooting me."
Thomas's eyes widened.
"He...shot you?"
"Twice, if I remember correctly. Some bullets missed."
She smiled at the memory.
"I recovered."
Then she sighed.
"Unfortunately, several bullets damaged the woodwork in my office. It was rather expensive to repair, and I'd rather not repeat the experience."
Thomas wasn't sure whether she was joking. She did say the strangest things every now and then.
"So instead..." she said, rising from her chair, "...I'll show you something much simpler."
She led the two boys into her office.
Against one wall stood what appeared to be an elegant paneled cabinet. Taking hold of a brass handle, Bedelia swung the panel open.
Hidden behind it was a full-length mirror.
She stepped directly in front of it.
"What do you see, Thomas?"
He walked closer.
"Me."
He frowned.
"And..."
His eyes moved from the mirror...
...to Bedelia...
...back to the mirror...
...back to Bedelia.
Like someone watching a tennis match, his head moved from side to side.
His heartbeat quickened. There should have been two people standing there. Instead...
There was only one. The color drained from his face.
"Oh...my God."
He stumbled backward a step.
"You're...you're really a vampire."
Bedelia quietly closed the mirror cabinet.
"Yes."
She folded her hands comfortably in front of her.
"I cast no reflection. I've never really understood why that is, but we simply don't."
Thomas simply stared.
Everything Noah had told him...
Everything that had happened in the library...
Her impossible speed...
Her strange remarks...
For the first time, they all fit together.
The impossible had just become the undeniable.
Thomas looked at her. "Then what do you plan on doing with me?"
Bedelia grinned. "Doing? I'm going to have you for dinner."
He instinctively took a step backward.
She laughed. "I'm joking, Thomas. I'm not going to do anything with you."
"But...I did break into your house."
"Yes, we keep coming back to that." She smiled. "Don't worry. All is forgiven. You did it because you were starving. If you had done it in greed or hate...Well, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Her expression grew serious.
"You have to understand something, Thomas. I've killed more people than you'd ever want to know. I've drunk their blood. But every one of them deserved it. I've never killed an innocent person. I've never killed a good person."
She studied him for a moment.
"And I believe there's a good person somewhere inside you. Otherwise"—she gave a slight shrug—"you'd be resting in the belly of an alligator right now."
Thomas slowly turned to Noah.
Noah's eyes remained lowered, as they usually did, but he gave a small, unmistakable nod.
Thomas looked back at Bedelia.
"So...you were serious? You really want me to help Cooper in the gardens and live here? Work for you?"
"Yes," she said. "I was serious. I wasn't fattening you up for dinner."
He smiled for the first time.
"Okay."
But now his mind was racing. Questions poured into it faster than he could ask them. Was she really as old as she said? When had she become a vampire? How had it happened? What had her life been like?
Bedelia smiled, knowing his mind was filled with questions.
"I can almost hear the gears turning."
He looked a little embarrassed.
"Once you've settled in and become accustomed to life here, I'll be happy to tell you my story. I find it rather long and boring because I lived it, and I really don't need to hear it again. But I suspect you'll find it interesting."
Just then the doorbell rang.
Sarah answered it and returned a moment later carrying several large boxes.
"Good," Bedelia said. "Your clothes have arrived."
She nodded toward the boxes.
"I guessed your sizes. I've become rather good at that over the years. There are everyday clothes, work clothes for the gardens, and a few nicer outfits as well. If anything doesn't fit or isn't comfortable, just let me know."
Thomas looked at the boxes, then back at her.
"Thank you."
Bedelia smiled with warmth, feeling protective of the boy.
"You're welcome, Thomas. Welcome to Pecan Hill."
Leaving Thomas with Noah and Sarah to carry his new clothes upstairs, Bedelia returned to her office. There were investments to review, businesses to oversee, and correspondence waiting. Even in the modern world, a vampire sometimes had to take care of business—quite literally.
She settled into the chair behind her desk and switched on the computer. An email had just arrived.
Curious, she opened it.
It was remarkably short.
I've had a very bad day at the office. See you soon.
—Alexandra
Bedelia smiled.
I wondered how long it would take, she thought.
She wasn't surprised.
She leaned back in her chair, already beginning to make plans for Alexandra's visit. She genuinely liked the young woman. Alexandra Julian was intelligent, honorable, and possessed a quiet strength that Bedelia admired.
The Society of Shadows, on the other hand, was often more of an annoyance than a threat. Their mission to observe and understand the supernatural was admirable in principle, but all too often their curiosity became overzealous. They spent so much time watching that they sometimes forgot they were dealing with people as much as monsters.
Whatever had happened in London, Bedelia was certain Alexandra would have quite a story to tell when she arrived at Pecan Hill.
Only a few moments after reading the email, Bedelia's phone rang.
She glanced at the display.
"Henry. That didn't take long."
"No," Henry replied. "I found out about our Mr. Kelly."
"And?"
"He is...shall we say...an interesting human being."
Bedelia smiled. She knew Henry and exactly what he had meant by that.
"Oh, I'm sure he is. And what did he have to say?"
"I explained that you were interested in becoming Thomas's guardian for a while. He wasn't enthusiastic."
"No?"
"No. But he did say that...for the right amount of money...he might be persuaded."
"Ah." She leaned back in her chair. "And what price has he put on his own son?"
"Five thousand dollars."
Bedelia almost laughed.
Five thousand dollars. To her, it was little more than the loose change that collected in the bottom of a purse.
"Well, that's almost refreshing."
Henry chuckled, then became serious.
"For now," he warned. "But my guess is that once the money runs out, he'll be back looking for more."
"Ah...one of those."
She was silent for a moment.
"Why don't you bring him here?"
Henry hesitated as he pictured her fangs in his neck.
"Bedelia...that's Thomas's father."
"Henry," she said patiently, "I'm not saying I'm going to do anything to him. I simply want to meet him, alive."
Henry relaxed a little.
"All right. I'll have to drive him."
"Really?"
"He doesn't have a license anymore. Lost it for driving drunk."
"I see."
Bedelia smiled faintly, disliking Thomas' father a little more with every passing minute.
"Well, the day is still young. I doubt he has an overflowing social calendar. See if you can bring him out this afternoon."
"I'll contact him now. If I can get him there today, I will. Otherwise, I'll let you know."
"Very good," Bedelia said. "I'll expect the two of you."
Later that afternoon, Henry's car rolled up the long drive to Pecan Hill.
Henry stepped out first. The man who climbed out after him looked as though life had defeated him years ago. His clothes were stained and wrinkled. A beard that had long since passed a five-o'clock shadow covered his face. His hair looked as though it hadn't seen a comb in weeks, and judging by the odor drifting across the driveway, neither had the rest of him seen a shower in quite some time.
Overall, Roger Kelly was a mess.
Henry led him toward the house.
Roger's eyes wandered constantly, taking in the sweeping lawns, the towering live oaks, the fountains, and the magnificent mansion. He wasn't admiring the beauty.
He was estimating its value.
Bedelia had no intention of letting him wander through Pecan Hill, so she met them in the grand entrance hall.
"Henry," she said pleasantly, "thank you for bringing Mr. Kelly."
She turned her attention to Roger.
"Mr. Kelly. I'm Bedelia Dubois. I wanted to meet you personally and discuss your son."
"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "He's a pretty good kid."
"Really?"
Her blue eyes never left his.
"And that's why you beat him?"
Roger blinked.
"Oh...I don't beat him," he said in defense of himself. "You know how kids are. Sometimes they need a little discipline."
"I see."
Her voice remained calm as she fought off the strong urge to kill him where he stood. She so wanted to.
"Thomas tells me you've beaten him quite a number of times."
Roger waved a dismissive hand.
"Ah, kids exaggerate. He can lie, too."
"I understand."
She glanced briefly toward Henry before returning her attention to Roger.
"I'm sure Henry explained my proposal."
"Yeah."
Roger looked around the entrance hall again.
"You were offering five thousand dollars."
"I was." Her voice never raised a single octave.
"How about more?"
Bedelia raised an eyebrow.
"More?"
"Sure. More money."
She found him disgusting. But the way he smelled, he was not even an inviting meal. She would just take off his head with one move and leave it at that.
It helped having Henry there, since she didn't want him to witness such carnage. Henry was a gentleman.
"And how much more did you have in mind?"
Roger could almost smell the money. His eyes moved from one priceless antique to another.
"Ten thousand."
Bedelia considered him for a moment. She could have written a check for ten times that amount without noticing the difference.
Instead, she frowned as if in deep thought.
"That's quite a bit of money."
She paused.
"Perhaps I'll simply forget the whole arrangement."
Roger's expression changed immediately since this was the last thing he wanted to hear.
"Now wait a minute. Let's not get carried away."
He rubbed his chin in some panic.
As usual, Bedelia was just playing a game with him. If she couldn't simply kill him because of Thomas being his son, at least she could have that much enjoyment from the encounter.
"I'll split the difference," he said. "Seven thousand five hundred."
Bedelia smiled.
"Very well."
She extended her hand.
"Seven thousand five hundred dollars."
Roger eagerly shook it.
"But..."
His smile faded.
"There is one condition."
"What?"
"My attorneys will prepare the necessary documents. In exchange for the money, Thomas becomes my permanent ward. You surrender all parental rights. Forever."
Roger barely hesitated. He only thought about the money.
"Yeah." He shrugged. "Why not? Kids get expensive anyway. I don't need the little brat. You can have him. Good riddance, that's what I say."
Bedelia looked at him for several silent seconds. She so badly wanted to kill him.
Then she smiled.
"Very well."
She turned slightly.
"Would you care for a drink, Mr. Kelly?"
His face brightened.
"Sure. What've you got?"
With a grin, she stated, "Everything."
"I like rye whiskey. Straight."
"An excellent choice."
She gestured toward the hallway.
"Please. Come into my office."
In her office, Bedelia crossed to the liquor cabinet and removed a bottle.
WhistlePig Boss Hog Rye.
It was one of the finest American ryes available. Depending on the release, a bottle could easily sell for anywhere between five hundred and fifteen hundred dollars.
Roger Kelly's eyes lit up.
"I'll be damned," he said in sheer awe.
"Do you know it?" Bedelia asked, knowing full well that he could not afford a glass of it, let alone a bottle.
"I've heard of it, but I never thought I'd ever see a bottle."
She smiled.
"Would you like a drink?"
"You got any problem making it a double?"
"None at all," she said, increasing her pleasant Southern accent ever so slightly. Bedelia had watched Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind so many times over the centuries that she could probably have played Scarlett O'Hara herself. When it came out in 1939, she had watched it three times on various nights in New Orleans theaters. Whenever guests arrived, she simply slipped into the role of the perfect Southern hostess.
She poured a generous double and handed him the crystal tumbler.
Roger took one appreciative sip. Then, to Bedelia's amazement, he began swallowing it in great gulps. Most people savored a whiskey of that quality. Roger Kelly simply drank it.
She couldn't help smiling. Roger Kelly had all the smooth Southern sophistication of a sty hog.
"Another?" Bedelia asked with her heavy accent.
His eyes brightened with the greed of alcohol.
"Yeah. I'd sure like another. You're alright, lady."
He held out the glass, and she poured him a second double.
Henry watched the exchange with quiet amusement as well as being relieved that he didn't have to explain the man's sudden disappearance when he returned to town without him.
Bedelia turned toward him.
"And you, Henry?"
He gave a wave of his hand.
"Not this early. I have a rule about not drinking before five."
"A very sensible rule."
She knew Henry was a gentleman, and she turned her attention back to Roger.
"Once the legal documents have been prepared and signed, my attorneys will provide you with a cashier's check for seven thousand five hundred dollars."
He grinned.
"Sounds like a real fair deal to me."
"Then I'm pleased we understand one another."
A few minutes later, Henry escorted Roger toward the front door.
"Henry," Bedelia called. "Would you stay just for a moment? I need a word."
Roger left the room, a glass of rye still in hand.
"Certainly," Henry said.
Kelly wandered out into the entrance hall.
Once the office door closed, Henry looked at her.
"What is it?"
Bedelia picked up the bottle of rye.
"This is very expensive whiskey, isn't it?"
Henry nodded.
"It certainly is. I don't even buy it for myself, but I've been given it in appreciation for work that I have done for people."
"I'd like you to arrange delivery," she said with a coy expression.
"Of another bottle?"
She smiled.
"Oh, no. Two cases."
Henry looked.
"To Roger Kelly's house," she said with purpose.
For a second he looked puzzled.
Then understanding dawned.
"Oh..."
A slow grin spread across his face.
"I see."
"I rather thought you might. One of the qualities I've always liked about you, Henry, is I don't have to explain myself."
"He'll drink himself into oblivion."
"Perhaps. Or worse," she added.
Henry chuckled.
"And it just might solve the problem once and for all."
Bedelia's smile became almost mischievous.
"I think," she said softly, "it's worth a shot."
Henry laughed.
"Oh..."
He nodded toward the bottle.
"Many, many shots."
"Precisely."
Henry drove away with Roger Kelly.
Bedelia stood in the grand hallway for a moment, watching the car disappear down the long drive.
This just might solve the problem, she thought.
Unfortunately for Bedelia, being a vampire came with an extraordinarily keen sense of smell.
Roger Kelly's body odor still lingered in the air.
She sighed and wrinkled her nose.
"I'm sure it'll fade...eventually."
She glanced down the hallway.
"I'd rather not have to call in a fumigator. Perhaps Sarah can just open some windows."
Shaking her head, she turned and walked back to her office to finish the business waiting on her computer.
