“See, isn’t this nice?” Holly asked cheerfully as she set the pops down and settled in one of the chairs.
“Yes, it is,” he said with a smile, peering out over the landscape. “A nice ocean breeze, beautiful views and moonlight. What could be more romantic?”
In the process of unwrapping her sandwich, Holly stilled, alarm coursing through her. Cripes, it was romantic when you put it that way. What had she been thinking? Well, she knew what she’d been thinking, that it was better to eat on the balcony than in her bedroom with a big old bed there to give poor lovelorn Justin ideas. Cripes. This was no better.
“Maybe I should get some candles,” Justin said now.
“No!” Holly squawked with dismay. The last thing they needed was to make the setting more romantic. Noting that she’d startled him, she forced herself to pitch her voice to a less panicked level, and added, “I’m so hungry, Justin. I can’t wait. Let’s just eat. Hmmm?”
Fortunately, he nodded agreeably and started to open one of his own sandwiches, rather than go in search of candles.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” Justin said after they’d eaten in silence for a few moments. “It didn’t occur to me that you might be disturbed by it being served with the head on.”
“That’s all right,” Holly murmured, more interested in her food than the subject at the moment. “It was kind of you to cook for all of us . . . and at least Dante and Tomasso apparently enjoyed your efforts.”
“Yeah. They did,” he said with a wry smile, and told her, “They ate every last bite of it. They even split the head in the end.”
Holly didn’t comment, she was too busy trying to swallow the food in her mouth, which had suddenly transformed into a dry nasty ball at the reminder of that damned fish. Deciding a change of topic was necessary if she wanted to enjoy her meal, Holly asked, “So, you were born here in California but live in Canada now?”
In the midst of biting into his sandwich, Justin merely nodded. Once he’d chewed and swallowed though, he added, “My family still lives here, though.”
“Oh,” she said with surprise, and then tilted her head and asked, “Family?”
“Yeah, you know, mother, father, brothers and sisters. Family.” He grinned and teased, “We do have ’em you know. We aren’t hatched.”
“Yes, of course, I just—-are they all vampires too?” she asked, and then tsked with exasperation at herself and said, “Of course they are. If you’re over a hundred, you’d hardly still have parents and siblings alive if they weren’t.”
Justin nodded at her deduction. “My parents are old. Not as old as Lucian or anything, but old enough. Dad was born around the time of William the Conqueror. He fought alongside him in battle, in fact. Mom, though, wasn’t born until the late fourteenth century, during the peasants’ revolt in England, about 1381 I think, he added, to give her a reference point.
“Oh,” Holly breathed, sitting back slightly. Cripes, his parents were ancient.
“I have three brothers and three sisters,” he added. “Each the dutiful century apart. I’m the second youngest. The oldest is my brother Cam. He was born shortly after my parents mated and is over six hundred years old. My younger sister is six, no seven, this year.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “That’s . . . wow.”
Justin chuckled softly and shrugged. “I suppose it would be to a mortal. To me, it’s just my family.”
“Right.” Holly shook her head, finding it hard to imagine that seeming normal to anyone. But then she’d grown up in the mortal world, where older siblings were usually one to ten years and sometimes even as much as twenty years older, but never five or six centuries.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Justin asked.
She watched him pick up the last of his first sandwich and pop it in his mouth, marveling that he had finished a whole foot--long sub while she was only halfway through one half of hers. It seemed Dante and Tomasso weren’t the only ones who ate a lot. Her mother would have said it was because he was eating too fast, and if he’d just slow down he’d realize one sandwich would more than fill him up. Thoughts of her mom reminded her of his question, and Holly cleared her throat.
“No. I was an only child,” she said, and then smiled wryly and added. “Apparently, I was pretty much an accident.”
His eyebrows rose. “Why would you say that?”
“Because my parents told me so,” Holly said with a shrug and added, “Mom and Dad are archaeologists. They love what they do and are pretty much obsessed with it to the exclusion of everything else. If they aren’t on a dig, they’re planning and finding the funding for one. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for kids.”
He nodded slowly, his brows drawing together with what appeared to be concern. “Where did you stay when they went on these digs?”