“Carla?”
Too late now. I turned to face him.
“Do you still want to terminate our contract?”
I nodded, not really listening, for my mind was still struggling to make sense of Bécquer’s situation. “How? I mean, who did this to you?”
Bécquer only stared.
“Beatriz,” I whispered.
It was the only explanation. But Bécquer denied it. “Beatriz is gone, Carla. You don’t have to worry. She won’t harm your children. And I assure you my present disability will not interfere with my role as your agent.”
“That’s not why I asked.”
“Out of pity then? Please don’t. I’m immortal remember? I will heal before the week is over. And, in the meantime, would you reconsider your position and give me a chance at being your agent?”
He raised his left hand as if to stop me from answering, while he continued, “I’ve already queried several of the editors as a follow-up to our conversations at the party. If I were to withdraw your manuscript now, it would be unprofessional on my part and awkward for you or another agent to resubmit to them. So before you decide to rescind our contract, please realize that doing so would harm my credibility and yours.
“As for your fears, I assure you they are unfounded. Beatriz is gone and I already gave you my word that I won’t talk with Ryan without your permission.”
“I’m afraid my permission is redundant. Ryan is eighteen and has a mind of his own. He has refused to stop seeing you.” And I don’t even know if I have the right to keep him from you. “You saved his life. Twice,” I said aloud. “And took him to NA meetings. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I should have told you,” Bécquer said and sounded contrite. “In fact, I should have asked your permission. I apologize for overstepping my boundaries. You are his mother. And I am no one to him.”
“That is not true. Ryan thinks highly of you.”
“He does?” For the first time, a smile touched his lips. But even then there was pain in his eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, going back to the contract,” he continued after a moment. “Would you meet me half way? Would you agree to let me represent you until we get an answer from these editors? If one of them wants to buy your manuscript, I’ll represent you just this time. If nobody buys it, then you are free to contact other agents. Does this seem fair to you?”
Fair? Fair had nothing to do with my desire to part with him. But of my two reasons, the first one, my fear of Beatriz’s retaliation, he had refuted, and the second, my attraction to him, I couldn’t mention. I couldn’t even think about it, for if I did he would sense it in my mind and could use it to charm me even more. And “more” was the key word, for obviously his charm was working already.
I nodded. “All right.”
Bécquer beamed at me. “Great. I will tell Matt to type a contract with the new clause and fax it to you.”
“Matt is your secretary now?”
“And my driver.”
That explained my seeing Bécquer’s car at the light before. Matt must have dropped Federico and Bécquer then went to find a parking space. As for Matt being his secretary, did that mean he was giving him blood too?
“No,” Bécquer answered my thoughts. “Matt is not my blood giver. Funny that you’d think that when it was that same assumption on Federico’s part what brought me to my present state.”
“Matt did this to you?” Shocked at his words, I forgot to complain about his intrusion in my mind.
“No. Not Matt. Federico.”
“Federico?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But how? Why?”
“He found me drinking from Matt.”
I flinched, for if I had read the signs correctly Federico had more than a passing interest in Matt.
Bécquer nodded when I suggested it. “If I didn’t know then, my broken bones would have convinced me by now.”
“Why did you drink from Matt?”
“He offered.”
“You could have said no.”
“No. I couldn’t.” And as I looked at him unconvinced, he added, “I was unconscious.”
“Matt offered me his blood at Lake Galena,” Bécquer explained at my insistence, “and I said no. Then he helped me to his car and drove me back home. The guests were gone and the house empty when we arrived, Matt told me later for, by then, I had already passed out. Matt went in to get me some bags with blood from Federico’s room. When he didn’t find any, he panicked for he thought I was dying and decided to cut his wrists and give me his own.
“I drank from him, by instinct I guess, from his wrists first, then from his neck. When I came back to my senses Federico was looming over me shouting, and Matt lay unconscious in my arms.
“Before I had time to understand what was happening or make sense of it, Federico dragged me out of the car. I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen. Instead, he hit me. My senses still dulled by my recent loss of blood, he caught me unaware and the force of his blow sent me flying against the library wall. My neck snapped when I hit one of the metal beams and severed my spine. Then the glass broke and fell on me.”
“Your face — ”
“My face, my arms, my body. I have more cuts than I can count, and broke more bones than I thought I had. Not to mention the fact that I was paralyzed from the neck down.”
“But your arms, your legs, you can move them now.”
“Sure. But it took me all night to regenerate my spine.”
I winced.
“Nothing to worry about, really, Carla. My bones are set now. The collar brace, the sling, the cast in my leg, they are just a precaution.”
“Federico seems to disagree.”
“Because he feels guilty and likes to keep me like this to order me about.”
“Federico loves you, Bécquer. He’s trying to help you.”
“He loved me, you mean. He loves Matt now. I’m no more than an inconvenience for him.”
“I don’t agree. Federico may not be in love with you anymore. But he still cares for you.”
“Why are you defending him, Carla? Federico is responsible for this.” He waved his hand as he spoke to cover his brace, his arm, and his leg. “You know, he overreacts when in the throes of passion. You were with him when he broke the steering wheel of my car. Yet you seem to think I’m the one to blame.”
“Sorry, Bécquer. I’m really sorry that you got hurt.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then, maybe there’s still hope for me.”
“Hope?”
“I was not totally forthcoming before when I said I’m all right. My bones may have mended already, but the cuts from the glass will take longer to heal for some were deep and traces of glass may still remain in others.”
He took my hand. A move I had not anticipated, and at his touch, a shiver ran down my spine. An unlikely reaction for his hand was warm.
“Federico swears the blood he buys in bags is all he needs,” Bécquer was saying. “But even he recognized human blood would help me heal faster and agreed to drive me here today so I could ask you.”
“Ask me — ?”
“Whether you’d be my blood giver.”
Chapter Twelve: Rachel
I stared at Bécquer in total shock. Was he serious? Did he really expect me to agree to be his blood-giver?
“I guess not,” he said when I didn’t answer. His eyes staring straight into mine were not pleading.
He let go of my hand and leaned back in his chair. He looked tired, exhausted even, the dark circles under his eyes ever so visible on his fair skin that was crisscrossed with pale scars.
“Does it hurt?” I asked him.
“Not at all.” A spark in his eyes, again he bent forward, and then winced — a sign of pain that negated his enthusiastic denial. But Bécquer, as if oblivious to his own discomfort, continued eagerly, “The interchange is quite pleasurable, in fact. And it doesn’t have to be for long. A week perhaps. I will not ask you to stay after I’m whole again, I promise. I will give some of mine in exchange. Taking immortal blood will make you stronger. It will also extend your life and — ”