Chapter Nine
~Claire~
I sat up in bed, sweat beading across my chest and face, the covers clutched to my breast with one hand, while the other remained outstretched in front of me, the echo of the heartbeat that had thrummed beneath it in my dream still pulsing against my skin.
It took me a moment to realize that my cell was ringing on the table next to me, and I snatched it up, answering before it could go to voicemail.
“This is Claire.”
“Claire, it’s Hugh,” the museum curator said brightly. “Goodness, are you okay?”
“Fine,” I lied, forcing myself to get my breathing under control. “The phone startled me.”
“Oh dear,” he said, his tone apologetic. “Are you in the states? I hadn’t factored the time difference.”
“I am, but it’s no trouble,” I assured him, flicking on the bedside light. “You know how I am with puzzles.”
“Indeed,” he answered with a chuckle. “And you’ve got quite a puzzle on your hands.”
My heart leapt in my chest, something very much like hope sparking at his response. I’d not been able to give Hugh much to go on in my message, but if he was calling back so quickly, I could only pray that he’d found something good.
“I assume you were able to locate the information I requested?” I asked.
“Well, Victor Galt was quite infamous in his time,” Hugh said. “He was practically French vampire nobility or would have been if there were such a thing. He spent years cultivating a vampire community in Canada. I think their goal was similar to what Colton Steele has achieved in Fayshore. To integrate with the humans. However, it never actually happened.”
No, of course it hadn’t. Because the love of his life was murdered by a group of mortals, and he’d buried himself in a tomb on an island.
“And what of Claire DuBois?” I asked him.
“Yes,” Hugh said slowly, the sound of pages turning sounding in the background on the receiver. “I would imagine you’d be curious about the woman who shared your name. Unfortunately, there is much less available about her. I have copies of letters sent from Galt to his family in France confirming that Claire had accepted his proposal of marriage, and then…they both disappeared.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I said with a sigh. “I believe we’ve found Victor Galt’s tomb.”
“Is it on Isle Aux Monstres?” he asked, the papers shuffling again.
“It is.” I waited for Hugh to continue, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at him to hurry up.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ve got some journal entries from the LaFey family stating that they were going to the island to perform a ritual for Galt around the time of his disappearance. But I couldn’t find anything else of record, so I wasn’t sure it was accurate.”
“The LaFey family,” I repeated. “Does it say who made the entry? Is there anything about the ritual or how to reverse it?”
“I will scan the pages and email them over to you,” Hugh said with amusement in his tone. “As well as the rest of the documentation I have. I do hope you’ll keep me informed on the progress with the tomb. You know we are always available for storage and archiving, as well as anything else you might need.”
“I know,” I agreed. “Thank you so much for your assistance. I promise to let you know anything I found out on my end.”
“Try to get some rest, Claire,” Hugh said kindly. “It will take me hours to assemble everything and send it over. There’s no need to sit by your computer all night waiting.”
“You know me too well,” I grumbled, though I couldn’t help smiling.
“Good night, Claire.”
“Good night, Hugh.”
We hung up and I sat staring at my laptop, which was perched on the end of the bed where I’d left it when I’d decided to try to sleep. The urge to try to find more information on my own was overwhelming, but I knew that not much existed digitally about monsters dating back that far, so all I’d be doing is robbing myself of whatever little more sleep I could grab before dawn came.
But as I lay back down and closed my eyes, I realized I was afraid to sleep. Afraid that I would dream of Victor again. Scared that maybe it was true, and I was somehow the reincarnation of his soul mate…but also terrified that I might not be.
It was such a romantic story. Well, the burning alive of Claire notwithstanding. But the fact that Victor had loved her so completely that he couldn’t bear the thought of life without her. That was some classic romance stuff right there.