But he walked out. Left the gloomy little room without a backward glance.
I can't really say I blamed him.
Perfidia's smile defied description. "Isn't he just the handsomest man you ever saw?" she asked lightly. She started to close the armoire, but then shoved its doors wide again, as though to taunt me with the sight of its contents.
"Stay right where you are, Andrea, until I return for our little mother-daughter chat. Or not."
Chapter 9: Unexpected Revelations
I cannot tell you how long I remained a captive. Days, I suspect. My draperies were made of dark velvet, designed to keep out the light of day, and I was so bewildered by all Perfidia had revealed, I paid little attention to the passing of time, anyway.
Was that vampire really my mother? Why had she taunted me by attacking Billy, and then persuading him to escape, while I could only watch helplessly? What had I ever done to her to provoke such cruelty?
And-just slightly less distasteful-could Judge Legg really be my father? At least, as lawyer Alex Moore, I had won more of my cases than he had. But I'd never respected him, as a magistrate or as a man who'd always been full of himself. Had the Sisters encouraged my legal career-my male persona-as payback for the way he'd treated Perfidia? The Three P's must've been chuckling for years, knowing the magistrate was being held accountable in the courtroom, by a daughter he didn't know he had.
But the joke was on me. My professional guise was the very trick that damn vampire had turned against me, to convince Tripplehorn I was the wrong woman for him. And where was Billy now? I really couldn't blame him for leaving me. But I worried that Perfidia had left him so weak he was defenseless against disease. For all I knew he was already dead…
"I'm yours, Andrea. Take every fucking inch of me, and don't you dare expect me to stop!"
His voice filled the room as it had that first time we made love, not so very long ago, when I became Billy Tripplehorn's in every way that counted. I suddenly longed for him so strongly, for the feel of his body dominating mine, that my clit twitched and tremors went through my core. As though guided by some invisible, insatiable demon, my hand slithered down my bare belly to squeeze my mound. I told myself I was only lonely, taking the edge off my fears while I waited for someone to find me. But when my fingers slipped inside my slit, I convulsed immediately.
Heedless of the way my prison was shrinking, I rocked backward to prop my toes against the top corner bars. My moans echoed as my backside thumped against the floor. One hand wasn't enough: I held myself open with both thumbs while an eight-fingered strumming had me straining upward…clenching my eyes shut against a shattering orgasm.
"Billy! Oh Jesus, Billy, fuck me!" I cried. I knew damn well at least one set of undead ears was listening, but I was shamelessly-helplessly-driven by that primal power, until I lay limp and wet on the floor.
As I caught my breath, I shook with disgust-and then dismay. Perfidia's prison was now clinging so close it could've been a corset: it shifted every time I did, and bit into my bare skin like whalebone stays. There I lay on the floor, my knees bent back over my chest with my arms caught between them, and my fingers still splayed over my wide-open, very wet sex.
"Cerise!" I hollered, hoarse from my passionate outcries. "Cerise, are you there?!"
I held my breath to listen for the footfalls of the French maid, but heard only my own pulse.
"Justin? Jeremy?" I called. "PLEASE help me!"
The house was silent as a tomb. Indeed, I felt like I'd been locked into one, for now I didn't even sense the presence of the undead. It was as though the mansion itself had died when Billy left: everyone had wanted him, and now they'd either left to follow him…or bury him. Perfidia had left me in this position to get her last humiliating licks in while she and her decadent, spellbound staff claimed what had been rightfully mine.
I tossed restlessly on the floor-for how long? When I awoke, I glanced toward that tarot spread still floating a few inches from the wall, trying to puzzle out its meaning. But then, what did ANYTHING mean now? What did it matter which of those cardboard queens represented Pandora or Pink or even Lucy Legg? The final outcome, where the cloaked figure on the Five of Cups card mourned a great loss while the man in the Ten of Swords picture bled to death, had spelled out my fate to perfection.
I drifted back into fitful dreams…in my mind, I was reliving that confrontation with Perfidia, replaying her pointed, wicked words…reseeing the fangs that sank into Billy's neck. Without conscience or soul or remorse, she was. Hungry for power, living out her envious greed at my expense.
Was I an heir to such qualities? More to the point…was I part vampire? If Miss Pink had converted Perfidia at the time of my conception, nursing her with blood to sustain us both, did this mean I, too, was cursed? As the hours passed, this thought plagued me the most, until I was wallowing in my own damnation-and in the waste I could no longer hold, as well.
A pinpoint of light appeared, in the shadows that clung like bats just beneath the ceiling. I was probably hallucinating-the next step toward insanity. And yet, as I squinted at that shimmer of brightness, it felt familiar to me. The house was so quiet my ears were ringing. The glimmer materialized into Pandora, resplendent in a gown of black satin that whispered with each step she took. Her midnight hair flowed over her bare shoulders as she smiled down at me.
I couldn't speak. I merely watched her, fearing another of Perfidia's evil tricks.
"That's ridiculous, Andrea. You know who I am. Now get up and tend to yourself, dear."
Oh, how I wanted to believe that melodious voice-wanted to believe I could obey! I despised being caught in this cage of humiliation, naked, with my legs splayed and my hands in an incriminating place! But my leaden muscles ached with the effort of just focusing on her.
"All right then, lie there in your own filth," Pandora said, obviously disappointed. "But tell me what Perfidia did. What she said. I can't undo her mischief if you don't help me, Andrea."
I blinked. If this truly was Pandora, the most ancient and powerful vampire at the orphanage, why did she need me to fill her in?
I choked on the dryness in my throat. My tongue tasted like I'd licked the floor. "She put me in this damn cage," I rasped, "and then she sucked Billy's blood."
Pandora's eyes didn't widen in sympathy, the way I expected them to. But then, maybe I was only hallucinating. Maybe she wasn't really there.
"And?"
"And she told me she was…my mother. And that Judge Legg fathered me," I went on with a hitch in my voice. "And she showed Billy the Alex Moore clothes in my armoire, to disgust him into leaving."
Pandora crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. "Only away a day," she sighed, "and it's all gone to hell in a hand basket. Perfidia loves her parlor tricks. And she never fails to live up to her name, does she?"
I blinked again, forcing reason to return. If the root word "perfidy" referred to a lack of loyalty…
"Her magic is black-powerful-partly because you believe it is, Andrea," this more compassionate vampire continued. "While I'm sure you think yourself imprisoned by those bars, you must realize that if they move when you do, they aren't attached to the floor. So neither are you."
Talk about a thunderbolt. I struggled to stand, but got no farther than sitting up. Tears sprang to my eyes. "I-I don't understand-"
"You've been staring at that tarot spread, trying to puzzle out who did what, and to whom," she continued, gliding toward the cards. "But you know what, Andrea? These are made of paper. The only power they possess is the belief we invest in them. If you don't BELIEVE, their message is meaningless."
My jaw dropped. "But you constantly consult the cards! You taught me how to-"