“No.” He leaned forward and opened his door, politely standing aside to let me by before following me in. There are some advantages to dating a guy from another era, I thought. Though I am a big believer in gender equality, chivalry scores high in my book.
“We were out all night searching. It’s like all the numa in town just up and disappeared. We went to every bar and restaurant that we know they have a finger in, and only saw human employees—no trace of them.”
“That could have been really dangerous, couldn’t it?” I tried to imagine what would happen in a standoff between the good and evil revenants. The undead leaping around with swords among a frightened bar clientele.
“If they had been there, then it could have been dangerous. But with humans around they wouldn’t dare attack us.”
I thought about Ambrose getting stabbed just a few feet away from a crowd of humans and suspected Vincent was downplaying the danger for my benefit.
“But no one was in sight for us to interrogate. They don’t have one fixed residence like us. So it’s impossible to know where they’re based.”
“How’s Charlotte taking it?” I asked.
“Not well,” Vincent said. “She’s out with the others right now, looking.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
“Tonight’s the ‘big night.’ And I’m already feeling weak. I wouldn’t be much help if we actually found anything.”
“So when does it start . . . the dormancy thing?” I asked.
“During the night,” he responded. “The evening I begin dormancy, I usually end up watching movies and loading up on some calories, since I’m no good for anything else.” He waved his hand toward the coffee table, which was set with tea and an assortment of mini pastries.
I looked at him in amusement. “Jeanne?”
“Who else?” he responded with a chuckle. “Every time you stop by she acts like we’re receiving visiting royalty.”
“As she should,” I said, holding my chin a bit higher before throwing myself onto the couch in order to attack a mini chocolate éclair. “So where’s the TV?” I asked.
“Oh, I watch in our screening room. Ambrose is a movie buff, and he convinced Jean-Baptiste to build our own cinema here. It’s in the basement, alongside the gym.”
“Now that is something I would love to see,” I said.
“I may just have one or two of your favorite films waiting downstairs for you. We could even order some pizza and dine in style. Is it a date?”
“A real date! I accept!” I almost squealed, and then, trying to dampen my enthusiasm, continued, “Only since you claim you’ll be such boring company, of course. Otherwise I’d be fine just sitting here, staring into your eyes all night.”
Vincent paused, looking at me suspiciously for a second, and then, grinning, asked, “Sarcasm?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “You’re pretty quick for an old guy.”
“Damn, and I thought I had finally found a true romantic,” he joked, and then hesitated as a serious look stole over his face. “Speaking of boring company, do you mind talking about what we’ll do while I’m asleep?”
“Sure,” I said, wondering what could possibly come next.
“Tomorrow I’ll be body-and-mind dead. I would rather you not see me when I’m unable to communicate. But starting Friday morning, my mind will be awake. So that you won’t feel like I’m stalking you, do I have your okay to come and see you . . . in volant form?”
“Hmm. That’s got to be the strangest offer I’ve ever received,” I laughed. “I don’t know . . . can you do anything to let me know you’re there? Like write me a ghostly text message? Or make my pen move?”
He shook his head. “Only if someone comes along who can hear me, like Charlotte or Jules.”
Thinking of my messy bedroom, which I hoped he hadn’t already secretly seen while floating around, I countered, “Aren’t you going to be on ‘walking duty’ with someone?”
Vincent smiled, tiny lines of fatigue creasing the corners of his eyes. “Well, yes, if anyone’s walking I’ll be going along. But I’d like to come see you in my downtime.”
“Then why don’t I come here?” I asked. “That way whoever’s home can ‘interpret’ for me.”
“If you don’t mind, that would be nice,” Vincent said. I noticed he was steadying himself on the couch with one hand.
“Are you okay, Vincent?” I asked.
“Yes. Although I’m starting to feel weak. No biggie.” He exhaled deeply and sat down on the couch next to me. “So tomorrow’s a no-go, but I’d love to see you Friday.”
“Deal. I’ll come over in the morning. Since tomorrow’s Thanksgiving in the States, school’s out tomorrow and Friday. I’ll just bring my homework and do it here.”
We ordered pizza and curled up on the couch to wait for it to arrive. “How did it go last night with Georgia?” he asked.
I had been scrupulously avoiding the issue, hoping I wouldn’t have to tell Vincent that I had failed.
“We’re not speaking,” I admitted.