Page 91 of Bent Out of Shade
I wasn’t sure she could do that, but I wasn’t not sure either. I folded my arms and stared out the window, listening to the jazz station she put on.
We were halfway home when Tatiana piped up. “He knew.”
It took me a moment to put that in context, but when I did, I screamed Holy crap in my head. However, I kept my body language and voice casual, not even turning from the window to look at her. “And Samuel didn’t mind?”
“I loved my husband,” she said with a glare.
“Tatiana,” I said gently, “I’ve seen the letters between the two of you. I have absolutely no doubt of that.”
She relaxed, her shoulders dropping.
“And there’s nothing wrong with an open marriage when all people consent to it. It just surprised me given the time period and the fact you came from a religious family. Was that why you were estranged from them?”
She uttered a mirthless laugh. “No. Running away to be an artist in Paris instead of getting married was enough.” She remained quiet for another few blocks. “I wouldn’t say Zev consented, but he had no choice if he wanted to keep me.”
“Did you know he was a vampire from the start?” My fingers twitched; I longed to take notes and put this all in her memoirs. The publishing house she was negotiating with would have a bestseller on their hands. But alas, that could never be. Oooh. Unless we put out an Ohrist edition. We were totally discussing that later.
“I had no idea. I was sixteen and sneaking out to attend artist salons while he was a well-known and charming patron of the arts.”
I shuddered. I couldn’t help it. “Sadie is sixteen and Zev was about forty when he became a vampire.”
She clucked her tongue. “My parents hired a Shidduch to matchmake me at her age. Don’t apply today’s standards to my life, Miriam.”
“Sorry,” I said, abashed.
“Besides, Zev didn’t do anything inappropriate. We didn’t even interact much for the first few months until I brought some of my paintings to one of the salons. He commented on my talent, which was a big deal to me.” A smile flitted across her face. “I worked up the nerve to ask for help finding an art teacher, since I’d been self-taught to that point. My parents hadn’t been religious prior to their rise in fortune, and they’d always taken me and my siblings to museums. They didn’t take issue with me painting as a hobby, though it was understood I’d stop all that when it came time to produce children and run a home.”
She stopped halfway through the intersection at a red light, her arm flying out to block me from going through the window.
I barely even registered the cars honking at us. “What happened?”
“Zev was good friends with my instructor and was often there for my lessons. We got to know each other.” The years seemed to fall off her wrinkled frame as she spoke, lost to these happy memories.
“Green light,” I murmured.
She hit the gas and we jolted forward. “When I was seventeen, I got engaged and my art lessons came to an end. My parents watched me like a hawk, and if I wasn’t with them, then I was with my betrothed, Shlomo, and his family.”
I twisted around in my seat. “Did you make it to the chuppah?”
“Absolutely not. About a month into my engagement, I ran to Zev and declared I’d rather die than get married.”
“Not dramatic at all,” I said wryly.
“That’s why I’m such an expert.” She winked at me. “That’s also when he showed me what he was.”
“Were you scared?”
“I was young, with a head full of dreams, and the person I’d begged to take me to France turned out to be a handsome vampire. What do you think?” She turned onto my street. “So began a new chapter of my—” She stiffened. “Miriam.”
My argument that this was no time to go all Scheherazade fled because all the windows and the front door of my home were open.
I’m not sure I even said goodbye before bolting out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
An unfamiliar vampire peeled away from the shadows in my neighbor’s yard and intercepted me before I got to the protective wards around my property. Luckily, she penetrated my adrenaline-addled brain enough for me to understand that Zev had sent her.
Tatiana’s vehicle blocked the street, the artist watching the two of us with a steady gaze.
I rested my scythe on my shoulder, attempting to think logically. Zev was the only one who could get through the wards. That was the entire point of them. Even a human with intent to harm would have the strongest urge to move along. Sadie had been painting. She must be airing the fumes out.
