Dead Perfect
“Beauty and the Beast! Oh, I’ve always wanted to see that!” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re so good to me. How can I ever repay you?”
His gaze moved over her, slow and hot. “I’ll think of something.”
“Do you remember you said we could visit my parents while we’re in New York?”
“I remember.”
“Do you think we could go on Sunday?”
“Sure. Where do they live?”
“On Hillcrest Street in Middletown.”
“Leave me the address and I’ll meet you there around six.”
“You’re not coming with me?” she asked. “Never mind,” she said before he could reply, “you’ve got business to attend to.”
“Right. Is one day going to be enough, or would you like to stay longer?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to play it by ear.”
The flight was uneventful. It was a little after two a.m. when they arrived at LaGuardia Airport, on the north shore of Queens. Ronan collected their bags and hailed a cab. Their driver was a handsome young man with a thick accent that made Shannah think of Jamaica.
Sitting in the back seat of the taxi, bouncing over an old bumpy highway, Shannah got her first look at Queens in over a year as they traveled toward the 59th Street Bridge which would take them into Manhattan. She smiled as they crossed the bridge. It always reminded her of the song made famous by the Simon & Garfunkel hit, “The Fifty-Ninth Street Bridge Song,” more commonly known as “Feeling Groovy.”
The scenery hadn’t changed much, Shannah mused as they left the highway and drove through a neighborhood of warehouses, four-story buildings, garages, and the like. It was still less than scenic.
Eventually, they crossed the bridge, which was a gloomy, double-decker industrial bridge.
They reached Manhattan some thirty minutes later. The cab driver turned left onto Park Avenue. The two-way street was divided by a narrow island which held numerous pots of concrete planters filled with flowers, shrubs and low hedges. Hence the name Park Avenue, she supposed. The buildings that lined the street were old and elegant. There were several cute little shops she hoped to visit when she had the time—boutiques, flower shops, a small French bakery.
The cabby made a U-turn and pulled up in front of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. While Ronan collected their bags, paid the fare and tipped the driver, Shannah took a good look at the hotel, unable to believe she was actually going to be staying there. She had seen it on numerous occasions but never been inside.
The Park Avenue lobby near took her breath away. It was beautiful. There were murals on the walls and a stunning mosaic floor. A gorgeous chandelier hung from the ceiling.
She waited while Ronan checked them in at the desk, more than ready for a long hot bath and eight hours’ sleep. Even the elevator was elegant, she thought, as it whisked them up to the 29th floor. Once again, Ronan had reserved two suites adjoining.
“I could get used to this,” Shannah murmured as she crossed the large foyer. The living room was elegant and well appointed. There was a wet bar and a television set, even a fireplace. Gold draperies covered the windows. A high-backed sofa, a comfortable overstuffed chair, and a couple of occasional tables formed a cozy conversation area. Fresh flowers decorated the tables, there were a number of pictures on the walls.
Leaving the living room, she went into the bedroom, which was done in rich tones of gold and red. The king-sized bed was covered with a white spread. There were table lamps on either side. There was a cozy armchair and ottoman covered in a pretty red print, and a glass-topped table. A separate boudoir offered a makeup mirror and dressing area. The marble bathroom was luxurious, with an oval tub, dual sinks, and a separate shower big enough for two.
Returning to the bedroom, she kicked off her sandals, then dug her bare toes into the luxurious carpet. “Wow,” she murmured.
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Ronan remarked, coming up behind her.
“Nice? My apartment is nice. This is…” She spread her arms wide and twirled around. “This is paradise.” Moving to the window, she stared down at Park Avenue, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “I feel like a movie star.”
He laughed softly. “I’m glad you like it.” He took her in his arms because she was vibrant and alive and he couldn’t resist touching her, holding her, if only for a moment. “I’m sure you want to take a bath,” he said, brushing a kiss across her brow, “so I’ll leave you to it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I think I’ll go stretch my legs while you soak in a hot tub.”
“Will you come in and tell me good night before you go to bed?”
“Shall I tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story, too?”
She looked up at him, a smile curving her lips, her eyes filled with merriment. “I think I’d like that.”
He smiled back at her, taking care that she didn’t see the hunger in his eyes.
He wanted her more every time he saw her. Wanted her love, her laughter, her very essence.
He wanted to possess her, body and soul, mind and spirit, wanted to make her his in every way possible. Not for the first time, he wondered what she would say, what she would think, if she knew what he was.
Fighting his hunger, he released her. “I’ll see you before you go to bed.”
Still smiling, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
He stared after her for a moment, then left the room, locking the door behind him.
He prowled the dark underbelly of the city, seeking sustenance among the homeless drifters.
He fed, and then fed again, gorging himself until even his endless hunger was satisfied.
Sated, he returned to the lights of the city, strolling down the street until he came to a night club. Pausing at the door, he let his preternatural senses peruse the place before he stepped inside and sought a small table in the back.
Sitting with his back to the wall, he watched the patrons. Several couples were dancing to an old country song. Others were engaged in the age-old ritual of courting. He caught snippets of conversation; men wooing the girl of their choice with liquor and sweet words, women with their heads together while they debated the merits of this man or that. In all his years as a vampire, he had never contemplated marriage, never engaged in any long-term relationship with a woman. Not that he had lived his preternatural life as a monk. Undead or alive, he was still a man with a man’s needs and a man’s desires. And right now he desired Shannah above all else.