Argeneau Family - Vampires Are Forever Part 1

Vampires are Forever.

By Lynsay Sands.

Prologue

"You'll be flying over in one of the company jets. It should be ready and waiting by the time we get to the airport."

Thomas Argeneau nodded, but his attention was on the clothes he was ripping from hangers in his walk-in closet and shoving into his knapsack.

Etienne watched briefly and then burst out, "Why hasn't Mother called?"

Unable to answer the question, Thomas grimaced and shook his head. He found the whole situation upsetting. After seven Argeneau Family Tree hundred years as a housekeeper, Marguerite Argeneau had decided to start a career. But she hadn't eased her way into the workforce with a secretarial job or some other mundane career. Instead, she'd decided she wanted to be the next Sam Spade, or Samantha Spade as the case may be. The woman, who had rarely left her home before this, had taken on a job as a private detective and flown off to Europe to locate the mother of a five-hundred-year-old vampire.

While Thomas understood her desire to have a career to fill her time, he wished she'd chosen something a little less exotic, and preferably one that could have been done at home in Canada.

"She called every evening for the first three weeks; sometimes twice in a night. And then, bang, nothing at all. Something must have happened," Etienne muttered.

Thomas glanced over his shoulder, noting that his fair-haired, usually mellow cousin was anything but mellow now. Etienne was pacing behind him in the small walk-in closet, his face marred by lines of concern. It was an emotion the entire family was presently suffering. Marguerite Argeneau had been out of contact for three days now. Normally, that wouldn't be cause for concern, but Lissianna, her only daughter, was in the last month of her first pregnancy. That was why Marguerite had been checking in so regularly. Everyone knew she'd intended to drop everything and fly home at the first sign that Lissianna was going into labor, which made this sudden silence very disturbing.

"Thomas." Etienne stopped pacing and suddenly touched his arm. "I really appreciate your flying over to check on her like this...

and so does the rest of the family."

"I care about her too," Thomas said with a stiff shrug and then turned back to his packing, knowing he'd just spoken the biggest understatement of his life.

Biologically, Marguerite Argeneau might only be his aunt, but she'd raised him and was the only mother Thomas had ever known.

He loved her as much as her daughter and sons did.

"I wish I could come with you," Etienne added fretfully, beginning to pace again. "If I didn't have this deadline..."

Thomas didn't comment. He knew Etienne, as well as the rest of the family, wanted to go and look for the missing woman as much as he; they simply weren't able to on such short notice. However, he also knew they were making arrangements to follow as soon as they could. Thomas was sincerely hoping that wouldn't be necessary. He hoped to arrive and find her alive and well and with some silly, simple explanation for the lack of phone calls.

The sudden electronic ring of a phone made both men pause. Thomas watched Etienne slide a cell phone from his pocket and place it to his ear. His h.e.l.lo was followed by silence as he listened, and then he said, "Okay," and put the phone away.

"That was Bastien," Etienne announced. "He's managed to book you a room at the Dorchester Hotel in London. It's where Mother was staying before she disappeared."

"London?" Thomas asked with a frown. "I thought Aunt Marguerite and Tiny were in Italy. The case they're working is for some guy from Italy. Nocci or something."

"Notte," Etienne corrected, p.r.o.nouncing the name No-tay. "And he is Italian. At least on his father's side, but apparently he was born in England so that's where Marguerite and Tiny started their search."

When Thomas merely stared at him doubtfully, he added, "Bastien arranged the plane for Mom and Tiny and he says they went to England."

"So, she's in England not Italy," Thomas muttered and began dragging out the white linen pants he'd been stuffing in the knapsack, replacing them with jeans and a couple long-sleeved s.h.i.+rts to go with the packed T-s.h.i.+rts. It was early fall, the evenings would be cooler in England.

Once he'd stuffed as many clothes into the bag as he could, Thomas s.h.i.+fted the bulging knapsack past his cousin, and hurried out of the walk-in closet. "Has Bastien heard from Jackie? Has she heard from Tiny?" Thomas asked, hurrying to the dresser drawers to find socks and underwear. Jackie Morrisey was the owner of the Morrisey Detective Agency, and Tiny and Marguerite's boss. She was also the lifemate of his cousin Vincent.

Etienne grunted in the negative as he followed. "He still can't reach Jackie. She and Vincent are in the wind. They're probably locked up in a secluded cottage somewhere enjoying each other. I know, Rachel and I didn't leave the house for several weeks after we finally got together."

Thomas nodded as he crammed socks into the bag. He'd watched as each of his cousins found their lifemates, and everyone had disappeared for weeks afterward... all except Bastien. The head of Argeneau Enterprises hadn't felt he could take the time away from the family company. In truth, he might as well have. The man had been working at half his usual efficiency ever since his lifemate, Terri, returned to him. While the others had disappeared for a month or so and returned able to at least hold an entire conversation again without having to rush out of the room to be alone with their lifemate, Bastien's not taking the time to get it out of his system had just seemed to drag out the length of time during which he was easily distracted.

Thomas gave up trying to cram any more into his bag and began to zip it up. Finally admitting it was too full, he grimaced and pulled out the underwear he'd stuffed in, deciding he'd just have to go commando until he bought more in England.

"Greg tried to call mother at the Dorchester when Lissianna started having labor pains, only to be told that she'd checked out,"

Etienne said unhappily.

Thomas nodded as he slowly managed to work the zipper closed. Lissianna's lifemate had already told the family that when they arrived at the house en ma.s.se to keep him company while Lissianna gave birth to their beautiful baby girl. Their kind couldn't go to the hospital and risk having their otherness revealed. Most immortals gave birth at home with only an immortal midwife to aid them, but Lissianna had asked Etienne's wife, Rachel, to attend her. The woman might work in the local morgue, but she was also a doctor and had done a fine job of bringing the latest Argeneau into the world.

"Disappearing like this just isn't like her," Thomas said with, a sigh as he finally got the zipper closed.

"No," Etienne agreed. "Especially when she knew Lissianna was so close to giving birth. She made me promise to call if there was any sign that the baby was coming."

"She made me give her the same promise," Thomas admitted. "I suspect she made every one of us promise that."

They both fell silent, contemplating what could possibly keep Marguerite Argeneau from contacting her family, or at least calling to check on her daughter. The answer was simple; death or physically not being able to call were the only things that could have kept her from doing so.

Pus.h.i.+ng that thought away, Thomas swung the knapsack over his shoulder, s.n.a.t.c.hed up the binder lying on the bedside table, and headed for the door.

"Are you composing something?" Etienne asked curiously, following him out of the room.

The question made Thomas's hand tighten on his binder. He'd grown up in a home filled with music. Aunt Marguerite had loved all forms of music and had ingrained that same love in him as well. He had very fond memories of falling asleep as a boy to the sweet sound of her playing various piano concertos. When he'd expressed an interest, she'd taught him to play piano and guitar. He'd gone on to learn several other instruments since then.

Thomas was fourteen when he'd started his first clumsy attempts to write music. Unfortunately, Jean Claude hadn't appreciated music and had belittled his attempts. It hadn't taken long for Thomas to decide to keep his efforts a secret to save himself the heart ache of the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d's taunts. Afraid his male cousins would take his efforts no better, Thomas had kept what he was doing a secret from them as well. Aunt Marguerite, Lissianna, and Jeanne Louise had always known, however, and praised him when the music he wrote began to get published and gain popularity back in the late eighteenth century. They'd been very upset at his insistence on publis.h.i.+ng the music anonymously and keeping the knowledge of what he did from the others. But they'd honored his wishes. Or he'd thought they had, but now... "Which one told you? Lissianna or Jeanne Louise?" he asked grimly. He'd sworn both women to secrecy over his career and didn't appreciate their breaking the promise.

"Neither," Etienne answered. "Mother told me." Surprise made Thomas stop walking and peer around.

"You didn't think you could keep what you were doing a secret from her, did you?" Etienne asked with a laugh, and then added dryly, "She reads all our minds and knows everything about all of us."

Thomas grimaced, but said, "I knew she knew. Who do you think taught me to read and write music? I'm just surprised she told you. Bastien and Lucern don't know, do they?"

Etienne shook his head. "Your reputation as a useless loafer is safe from them, cousin. As far as I know she hasn't told them a thing about it. In fact, she made me promise not to tell them either. She said you'd tell them when you were ready."

"Hmm." Thomas nodded with relief at this news, but then said, "It makes one wonder why she told you."

"It was an accident actually. She caught me humming "Highland Mary" back when it was popular and said it was her favorite of your musical compositions to date. Of course, I hadn't a clue what she was talking about and made her explain it, but then she swore me to secrecy."

"And you're breaking that promise now?" Thomas asked with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Why?"

"I didn't realize how long I'd have to keep the secret. It was almost two hundred years ago, cousin, and you're showing no signs of revealing that you're a musical composer any time soon." He shrugged and then asked curiously, "Why are you keeping it a secret?"

Thomas continued up the hall, muttering, "It isn't secret to everyone. Besides, Bastien and Lucern would just think it was a 'cute little hobby' and tell me to put away such childish efforts and go to work at the family business."

"That sounds like something Father would have said," Etienne commented quietly.

Thomas merely shrugged. It was something Jean Claude Argeneau had said, and it had hurt enough at the time that he wasn't interested in hearing it again from Bastien and Lucern.

"There you are." Rachel smiled at the pair as they joined her in the apartment's large living room. "Thomas, is this your mother?"

His gaze slid past her to the portrait over the fireplace and he nodded slowly. Althea Argeneau had been a beautiful woman, but he had no memory of her. Marguerite had presented the painted portrait to him on the day he'd moved out of her home and into his own. The painting was the only connection he had to the woman who had given him life. His gaze now slid to the portrait on the opposite wall. It was of his Aunt Marguerite and he hoped to G.o.d it wasn't now his only connection to the woman who had raised him. He had to find her alive and well.

"So... is she any closer to being able to have that next baby yet?" Rachel asked with amus.e.m.e.nt, drawing his attention back to the portrait of his long-dead mother.

When he peered at it and then turned a blank gaze to Rachel, Etienne reminded him, "The first time you met Rachel was at the Night Club. She thought you were younger than Jeanne Louise. You told her she was wrong, and then said your mom had wanted more children but had to wait another ten years or so because of the hundred-year rule."

"Oh." Thomas smiled wryly as he recalled the conversation in question. The comment had been a throwaway line one would give to a stranger. He'd hardly wanted to explain about his family tragedies to her then, that there was no "mom" and Jeanne Louise was only his half sister by his father's third marriage.

The fact was Thomas's father seemed to be cursed when it came to wives. They just kept dying on him, a difficult occurrence since they had all been immortals. In response, the man had grown bitter and angry over the centuries, shunning any real contact with his son or daughter. It was a sore subject for Thomas, and one he preferred to avoid, which was why he'd made that comment at the time rather than explain that Jeanne Louise was only his half sister and that Marguerite Argeneau was the only mother either of them had known.

However, it looked like he'd now have to explain himself. "I-"

"It's all right, Etienne told me the story after we were married," Rachel interrupted quietly and then crossed the room to run a hand soothingly over his arm. "I was just teasing. I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories."

Thomas shrugged the matter away as if it weren't important and then turned to lead the way to the door. "We should get moving.

The sooner you drop me at the airport, the sooner I'll get to London, find Aunt Marguerite, and set everyone's minds to rest."

Chapter One.

"This is as close as I can get, love," the taxi driver announced apologetically. "That'll be fourteen pounds."

Inez Urso frowned as she noted they were at least three sets of doors from the gate she wanted. Unfortunately, there was a long line of cars waiting to collect arrivals and the driver couldn't get any closer. Knowing she had a jog ahead of her, Inez handed him the money, managing not to grimace at the expense.

It isn't coming out of your pocket anyway, she reminded herself. It's a business expense. That was the only reason she was here. Only a direct order from Bastien Argeneau would make her suffer through forty-five minutes of London traffic in an airless taxi during one of the hottest Septembers in history. If she'd had more warning, Inez would have had one of the company cars take her to the airport to meet Thomas Argeneau. She also would have gone to bed earlier last night. But she hadn't had more warning.

Bastien Argeneau, head of Argeneau Enterprises and her boss, had called at five o'clock in the morning, waking her from a dead sleep to ask her to pick up his cousin at the airport. Worse yet, he'd called a very short forty-five minutes before the plane was supposed to land.

Knowing it would take that long to get to the airport from her flat, Inez hadn't even taken the time for a shower or cup of tea, but had dragged on her clothes from the night before with one hand as she'd rung for a taxi with the other. Still doing up b.u.t.tons, she'd grabbed her purse and run downstairs, rus.h.i.+ng outside just as the taxi had stopped in front of her apartment building.

Inez wasn't at her best. No makeup, hair a mess, unshowered, and wearing her clothes from the day before, she wasn't likely to impress anyone. Fortunately, Thomas Argeneau wasn't someone she felt she had to impress. She'd only met the man once. After being promoted to vice president of UK operations several months ago, she'd gone to New York to tour the company's head offices. That was when she'd met Thomas, or at least seen him. They hadn't been introduced. She and several other top executives had been in a meeting in Bastien's office when Thomas had sauntered in-unannounced and without knocking-to spout a lot of gobbledy gook that Inez hadn't quite been able to catch except to note that it seemed to be sprinkled liberally with "yos, dudes, and dudettes."

Inez had seen enough movies to know he was talking like a stereotypical 90's California surfer. She somehow doubted the old terms were still used, but it didn't matter since he wasn't from California and-as far as she knew-there wasn't much surfing done in Southern Ontario. She'd decided it was all an affectation. He was just a lazy layabout youth, taking on this surfer lingo in a misguided attempt to impress someone.

It had turned out that Bastien had called for him to deliver something to one of his brothers. Thomas was nothing more than an errand boy, she'd realized, and that had simply confirmed her a.s.sessment of him. He was an Argeneau, but rather than get a degree and take a position in the company, he delivered things and talked like a stoned idiot.

Which meant, Inez thought now, that she'd been dragged out of her bed at five in the morning to pick up a man who had no importance, and probably didn't have a good reason to be in the country other than to loaf on new sh.o.r.es. It made him nothing more than an annoying pain in the a.r.s.e in her mind.

Unfortunately, the request had been made by Bastien, and he was someone she did want to impress. So Inez s.n.a.t.c.hed the receipt the taxi driver handed her, said thanks, and then flung the door open and hurled herself out of the cab to charge toward the Arrivals entrance.

A glance at her watch as she raced through the pneumatic doors and into the milling people said she'd made it to the airport five minutes after Bastien had said the plane would have landed. Inez felt a moment's panic, but then a.s.sured herself that he couldn't have got through customs yet.

Reaching the busy arrivals section, she took a moment to orient herself, and then made her way quickly along the row of gla.s.s windows toward the gate where Bastien had said she should meet Thomas.

Inez was perhaps twenty feet from where she needed to be when she saw the doors slide open and the man she was there to meet walk out. Forcing a pleasant smile to her face, Inez picked up speed and called out breathlessly, waving a hand to catch his attention.

Her call had been faint enough, Inez didn't think he'd hear, but Thomas did glance her way as he proceeded forward. He even seemed to notice her waving at him, yet he simply continued forward and out of the airport through the pneumatic doors in front of his gate.

Shocked at the apparent snub, Inez stared after him with shock, and then cursed and burst into a run as she saw him walking toward the row of cabs waiting out front. Tossing apologies left and right, she jostled her way through the crowd to the doors and rushed out onto the concrete just in time to see the cab he got into pull away.

Inez stared after the black cab, disbelief giving way to anger. She'd been dragged from her bed and rushed out here only to have the ignorant idiot hop in a taxi and ride off on her.

"Do you need a taxi, love?"

Inez glanced around at the question, and then sighed at the sight of the same smiling cabby who'd brought her to the airport. The man had burbled happily on about this and that and nothing at all the entire ride out from the core of London where she lived.

Now she would no doubt get to enjoy the same happy burble all the way to the Dorchester hotel where Thomas was staying.

"What I need is a tea," she muttered, then sighed and nodded and moved to where the man held the taxi door open. Inez didn't see the dark-haired, thin-faced man approaching the cab until they were both nearly to the door. She hesitated in surprise. He didn't. However, before he could slip into the open door, the taxi driver stepped in front of it.

"I'm taking the lady," the cabby announced firmly. "I brought her out, and I agreed to take her back."

The man didn't even glance her way, his attention focused on the driver. Inez had no idea what he said, but suspected he must have promised extra money, because the driver suddenly stepped out of the way for him to get in, closed the door, and got in the driver's seat without another word, or even a glance in her direction.

Once again, Inez was left gaping after a departing taxi.

"Diya need a taxi, lady?"

Inez glanced around with a start as a younger driver hailed her. Mouth tightening, she rushed forward, not willing to allow another ride to be stolen from her. Reaching the car unimpeded this time, Inez slipped onto the backseat, forced a smile, and muttered thanks as the driver closed the door behind her. She then sagged wearily on the seat, thinking she really needed that tea now.

Unfortunately, it would have to wait until after she got to the Dorchester and made sure Thomas Argeneau had everything he needed. That had been Bastien's order. "Collect Thomas, take him to the hotel, and see that he has everything he needs."And that was what she would do. She would make sure Thomas Argeneau had every single thing he needed... right after she gave him a piece of her mind for riding off without her. Then she could have her tea.

"Thanks, just set it there on the table," Thomas said as the bellhop followed him into the suite's sitting room. When the man did and then turned, mouth opening to inform him of all the amenities on offer, he waved him to silence.

"I'm good, thanks," Thomas a.s.sured him. Offering the man a tip for seeing him to his suite and carrying the knapsack, Thomas urged him toward the door.

"Thank you, sir." the bellhop's lips spread into a grin that he quickly softened into a more businesslike smile. "Just ring the desk if you need anything. Ask for Jimmy and I'll get you whatever you need."

"I will. Thanks again," Thomas murmured.

Closing the door behind the bellhop, he then turned and stepped back into the sitting room of his suite. Cla.s.sy, luxurious, tasteful... Nothing less than he'd expect. Aunt Marguerite always had shown good taste.

Moving forward, Thomas collected his knapsack and headed for the door leading into the rest of the suite, intending to place it in the bedroom. The ring of his cell phone made him pause, however.

Dropping the knapsack back on the table, he pulled the phone from his back pocket and flipped it open as he dropped onto one of the love seats.

"Yo?" he said lightly, already knowing who it would be.