AN: Yay for feedback and spiffy new banners and other lovely things... =) inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com ********************** Curiosity Killed... Chapter Nine *********************** “Are you comfortable on the couch? You sure you don’t want the bed? I really don’t mind…” I look up and smile despite myself at Brian. I like Brian. Nice Vampire. Minimal violence, gentle hands, and well, the fangs might be a draw back for some girls but I’m not most girls. “I’m fine Brian really, thank you for letting me stay in your room.” Brian smiles large enough to fool the sun as he stands by the couch I’m sitting on, dressed in loose draw string pants and a gray shirt. His eyes are a warm deep blue; his hair curling and messy from the sleep I woke him from when I can tearing down the hall, knocking on doors, looking for the only Vampire I wasn’t afraid or pissed at. “Its no problem if you want the bed,” he says, voice tinged with a southern drawl that’s more prominent than Kevin’s, and more attractive. Pretty Brian. “If my cousin wasn’t such an ass…” he says with a regretful shrug. “And Nick such a baby, and Howie so intent on immediate seduction and AJ the cause of my wonderful panic attack. How’s the arm by the way?” Brian flashes a wider smile and holds up a lightly bandaged arm. “Getting better by the hour. There are some advantages to being umm…” “The living dead?” I ask sweetly and Brian surprises me by laughing. I yawn even though I try not to and Brian frowns. “You must be exhausted,” he says, concern warming his voice. “I, you’ve had a hard day.” “Yeah, getting taken hostage by the Backstreet Boys is definitely a downer,” I reply dryly. He shakes his head and chuckles. “Get some sleep Catherine, things are only going to get more hectic from here.” And I can tell that he’s dying to ask a thousand questions but I admire his self restraint, I really do, as he goes and flips off the lights, casting the suite in semi darkness only relieved by the moon filtering through the gauzy drapes. My night vision is excellent from necessity and I can’t quite relax in my makeshift bed on Brian’s couch until I see him cross the room and slide into his own king sized bed. I wait a good fifteen minutes before I let my muscles relax enough that I fall into a deep, immediate sleep. It has been a very, very long day. Just another very long day in one of my nine lives. Sometimes it pays to be a cat. *********************************************************************************** I’m not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. The two main men in my life, Stephen and Dracula, are aware of this phenomenon… apparently I’m going to have to inform the new five men in my life. “Good morning child, rise and shine.” I groan loudly as Brian parts the curtains, allowing light to spill into the room. Dammit. “Why can’t ya’ll be descended from an old line?” I gripe as I search blindly for a pillow to throw over my face. “Most Vampires die when exposed to direct sunlight but oh no, ya’ll had to go and evolve and now, now you can go strolling down the street at noon minus the whole permanent death thing…” Brian, humming, reaches down and tries to grab the pillow from my grasp but I cling to it stubbornly. “Go away!” I howl. He clucks disapprovingly. “I let you sleep late, if you want breakfast we need to get you up and bathed and clothed. We leave for the airport in an hour and I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly want an enraged Kevin Richardson knocking down the door because we’re late.” I wince. “I’m not afraid of him,” I mumble through the pillow and dammit, I can feel Brian smiling benignly at me. “Child, its nothing to be ashamed of. He scares a lot of people.” I lower the pillow enough to reveal angry brown eyes. “I’m NOT afraid of him. He’s intimidating as hell but so what? Its not like I’ve never been intimidated before.” “You’re good for him,” Brian replied slowly, “he doesn’t get challenged enough and gets his way too often. That one of the biggest reasons Kristin…” He stops suddenly and blushes, as if he realizes his blunder, and I shrug mentally. I could care less why Kristin was no longer Mrs. Richardson although it’s a nice consolation to know my morals haven’t degraded enough to kiss a married man. Or be kissed by one, or… Its too early for morality issues. “I’m NOT afraid of him,” I repeat stubbornly, one last time, for good measure. Brian chuckles. “You will be if you make us late for the airport. Come on child, up.” I growl but don’t stand a chance against the superior strength of the undead. Brian takes away my pillow and hauls me up and into the bathroom. I kick him out and shower quickly, still grumpy from the ungodly early hour of seven o’clock. I’m so NOT a morning person. Brian raises his brows when I appear dressed in pajama pants and a simple long sleeved shirt, my wet dirty blonde hair put up in a sloppy bun. I don’t have a lick of make up on and don’t care a lick. I follow Brian mutely down the hallway and elevator to a private dining room where there’s a buffet set up, ignoring his disapproval of my attire. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smell the food and suddenly I’m starving. Sheepishly looking back, I realize I haven’t eaten since dinner two nights ago. I eat a lot when I remember to bother; I’m just not always great with remembering. I’m not rail thin because I have my share of soft curves, just not as many as I would have if I actually ate three meals a day. I pile food on top of my plate, shoveling extra scrambled eggs and seven or eight slices of bacon on top of three pancakes, sausage patties, hash-browns, and two biscuits with gravy. “Are you going to eat all that?” Nick asks in disbelief as he settles himself at the empty table I choose for myself without a glance at the rest of the room. I can feel four other eyes boring into my back and I shrug, unconcerned, as I begin to eat methodically. I stop for a minute and ask, “Can you please get me orange juice and a half a grapefruit?” Nick blinks for a moment, opens his mouth to complain, before shaking his head and getting up. I smile a lopsided thanks when he sets my cup and another plate down with more force than necessary. The smile dies as I look up into Kevin’s unearthly green eyes. I almost prefer the ungodly black. “It’s too early for you,” I snap as I take a sip of orange juice and go back to my breakfast. “Nick is not your servant.” I sigh as Kevin’s voice, dark and low, rolls over me like a wave. Good thing I know how to swim. “I didn’t say he was,” I snap tiredly. “I just asked if he’d get me juice and grapefruit. If he had a problem with it he should have told me to go to hell instead of 'telling' on me. Chill out.” Kevin takes Nick’s vacated chair, strange stare gleaming. “Do you eat that much all the time?” I roll my eyes and take a supremely large bit out of a biscuit. “How I eat,” I reply purposely between bites, “is none of your business. You drink blood, so lay off bloodsucker.” Oh that last jab annoyed him. I watched with interest as his fists tighten in his lap, leaving his knuckles white. Its fun seeing him count to ten mentally. Someone has anger issues… “Okay,” he replies finally, “we’ll forget the food thing for now. But, are you planning on getting dressed before leaving for the airport?” “I am dressed,” I reply mildly as I polish off the biscuits and move onto the hash-browns. “I think not,” Kevin says with a superior sniff. I roll my eyes again. “I think so.” “You are not going out in public as my girlfriend wearing pajamas.” “Then I guess I’m not your girlfriend.” I squeak as arms as strong as steel lift me away from my breakfast and thrown me over a broad shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?” I screech as Kevin strides out of the dining room. “If you won’t dress yourself, then I’ll do it myself.” I scream in fury and try to squirm out of his grasp like the good Cat I am, but he’s holding onto me with his stupid superhuman strength. I fight all the way through the hallways and elevator and into Brian’s room when he throws me carelessly onto the bed. I roll off and land on the floor with a thud that makes me wince. “Was that REALLY necessary?” I demand foully as I watch Kevin pick up my bag and go through my clothes. “Where’s the rest of your clothes?” he asks, ignoring my anger. I cross my arms across my chest and glare darkly from my position on the floor. “I don’t HAVE any more. Excuse me if I didn’t pack properly for the tour. I sort of had late notice about it considering I just got kidnapped last night and all.” Kevin growls and throws my jeans at me. “Wear these then and leave the shirt. We’ll take you shopping in the next city.” “My jeans have blood on them. That’s why I’m not wearing them.” And well, because my pajama pants are much more comfortable but he doesn’t need to hear that part. They DO have blood on them. “Blood from what?” Kevin asks suspiciously. I stand slowly, sore from my rough handling. “From a not so nice Vampire I found instead of ya’ll when I first got into Seattle two nights ago.” “And how did you get blood on them?” he persists. I shrug and pull of the pant leg of my oversized pajamas pants, revealing a bandage circling my lower thigh, about six inches above my knee. “He knifed me.” *********************************************************************************** Kevin lets me wear the pajamas pants on the plane. I win. I win.