Allison was gesturing for Kate to join them across the room. Kate glanced uncertainly from her boss to Lucern.
"I'll see if Luc's okay. You go see what your boss wants," Jodi suggested, giving her a push toward the head editor. "We haven't much longer here, anyway. They're closing up early to allow everyone time to prepare for the Renaissance costume ball and banquet."
Oh, yes, Kate thought as she moved toward her boss. Tonight was the costume ball.
Lucern nodded solemnly as the reader he had been speaking to stood and went to speak with Jodi. He was becoming used to talking to readers. He had tried his best not to at first, but Kate's lecture in his home kept popping into his mind—how, without them, he wouldn't be published. That he touched their lives, and that they only wished to tell him so. He'd learned to respond in somewhat of a pleasant manner to the embarrassing compliments they gave, but had found that with this little effort the readers opened further to him. They told him things, gave him parts of themselves he didn't know how to handle.
One woman had told him she'd just lost her young son, that life seemed bleak and endlessly cruel to her but that she'd found escape and hope in his books. Perhaps life would be good again someday. Then she had forced a laugh and told him she only wished that vampirism were true, that if she had believed in it, she would have searched the earth for a vampire to save her child.
Lucern had ached for the woman. He'd felt her pain reaching out to him and seeping into his body. He knew it was wrong, but he hadn't been able to let her just walk away. He'd slipped inside her mind and… not removed her pain, but veiled it somewhat, easing it for her so that the good memories were stronger than the bad. She'd walked away smiling.
He had met many wounded people today. Once he'd opened to them, he couldn't seem to close them out. But he had met many people who were just fine, too. He had found the whole experience interesting, to say the least. He had written his books for purely selfish reasons, to record the truth. But now he saw that the books were touching the lives of many others. It made him want to try his hand at genuine fiction, something he had never considered. He had started his life as a warrior. After a hundred years of that, he'd been something of a rakehell. When he had tired of that, he had donned a scholarly persona and buried himself in history. Perhaps it was time to turn to more creative pursuits. But would he be good at it?
"Okay. Time to go." Kate suddenly appeared at his side. "Allison is closing the hospitality suite early so everyone has plenty of time to prepare for the Renaissance ball."
Luc breathed a sigh of relief. The other writers seemed to echo it. While it was rewarding to speak to readers, it was also wearying. Lucern was surprised at how exhausted he felt.
As he walked with Kate to the elevator, he reminded himself to definitely remember to feed before the ball. It was imperative. Which brought his thoughts around to the matter of the ball. A Renaissance ball.
Well, he had very fond memories of that period. For that reason, Lucern was sure the night's ball would be fun.
Chapter Thirteen
The Renaissance ball was awful. When thinking about the era, Lucern had forgotten one thing: the dresses the women wore. He remembered unhappily just as Kate stepped out of her bedroom and into the shared living room.
She wore a full-length Elizabethan gown of burgundy brocade and white lace. It had a velvet bodice with the traditional pointed stomacher. Her long skirts and sleeve caps were pleated. She looked lovely. Truly. But the bodice was what really made the gown; it forced her breasts together and up so that they appeared ready to tumble out at any moment. Lucern's mouth began to water the moment she appeared. Then it struck him that he wouldn't be the only one looking at those luscious round orbs on such display. Kate was going to wear this damn thing in public. He didn't like that thought at all.
Lucern had opened his mouth to tell her so when she froze and blinked at him. "What the hell are you wearing?" she asked.
He stiffened in surprise. Glancing down at the dark blue costume he wore, he said, "This is traditional sixteenth-century wear," he said. "Did you not order it?"
"Yes, of course. But I just told them the sizes and didn't specify…" Kate's voice trailed off, and she frowned at him.
"You don't like it?"
"Like it? Well, it's just… you look kind of… er… froufrou," she said at last. "I mean… the black leotards show off your legs nicely, but… ?"