Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Lydia Michaels

  “I told you he would not let you down,” the other woman said confidently as she expertly stitched a seam in the beginnings of a quilt. “Now just think, all of this can be put behind you and you can move on with happier things.”

  Larissa did not reply. Was it truly over? Had Silus simply given up on her? It seemed all too easy. He was a stubborn man and did not take kindly to being told no. It was unnatural for him to simply step back from something he felt entitled to.

  Adriel continued to sew as males wandered by and found their way back to their carriages. Larissa simply kept her eyes to the ground and waited for Eleazar. There was a shuffle of feet nearby and Larissa felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. She looked up and found Silus leering at her. When he saw her notice him, he arrogantly strutted over to her. Adriel’s hands stilled and she looked up to see what had captured Larissa’s attention. She hissed an oath and stuffed her work into her sewing basket then proceeded to cross her arms irritably.

  “I wanted to commend you on acquiring such a fine match, dear wife. I cannot imagine the bishop being all too satisfied when he realizes the loadstone you will be around his neck. I almost pity you. To think, you found my demands as your husband inconvenient. Now you shall learn what it is to truly be wife to a domineering male. I imagine he will become quite enraged once he discovers your inadequacies. Try not to think of me when you are under him, praying you had not been so foolish and traded an accommodating husband for such an unbending mate.”

  “That’s quite enough, Mr. Hostetler,” Adriel said smartly. “I suggest you find your carriage and be on your way.”

  Silus looked to the other women and scoffed. “Are you speaking to me? I suggest you learn your place and address me only when I ask it of you and even then you will do so with the respect I deserve, female.”

  Larissa watched as a fine red brow arched slowly toward Adriel’s bonnet. The woman was incredibly intimidating and Larissa feared Silus had just offended her greatly.

  “I beg your pardon, but I see no man before me, but a boy, a small, lost boy. Go. Find your horse and be gone before you truly say something stupid and I am forced to teach you your place.”

  He laughed, unaffected by her threat. “Who do you think you are? I see you here every day, alone, with nothing but this empty hall to keep you company. I am not sure who you belong to, or where your keeper is hiding, but I do know if you were not such a dried-up thing, in possession of not even the slightest manners, you would not be here. But here you are. Now, you may not be attractive, but I assume you are at least wise enough to know when to shut your mouth. Open it again and I will shut it for you.”

  Before Silus could even turn back to Larissa, his body was propelled through the air and slammed into the opposite wall. The impact left him gasping and Larissa jumped. She looked to Adriel who still had that one sharp brow raised and watched Silus dispassionately. Larissa knew Adriel was holding him against the wall with his feet off the ground using only her mind. Without releasing him from her gaze she moved her sewing basket from her lap and gracefully stood.

  Her skirts fell to cover her ankles as she slowly strolled over to him. In a soft voice Larissa found incredibly menacing, Adriel said, “You foolish man. I am well aware of my place. It appears to me that you are the one confused. Out of pity I will clarify things for you. Now, I know you are not a smart man so I will speak slowly and use small words.” Larissa’s mouth opened as Silus began to struggle to breathe much like he had in the council hall. Adriel stood a foot before him with her hands clasped loosely behind her back. “I am Adriel Schrock and, next to Bishop King, I am the oldest immortal on this farm. I took care of your great-grandfather when he was still a boy running around in his knickers. I also was there the day your great-great-grandparents perished. Elder Abraham Gerig, the third eldest immortal on this farm, is my brother-in-law. Elder Christian Schrock is my son. Bishop King is one of my dearest friends and therefore so is his mate. You however, are as inconsequential as the flies that die over the horse shit in the fields. That is your place. While the most powerful men of this Order are bound by honor to act accordingly with the laws they make, I am bound by nothing. There is no boys’ club that holds me to a code of honor. So I will grant you this one warning. You speak to me in anything less than reverence again, and I will snap your empty head from your neck.”

  She turned and calmly walked back to the bench and Silus fell to the ground in an undignified heap. As Adriel picked up her sewing and began stitching as if she were never interrupted, Silus held his abused throat and gasped for air. When he saw Larissa watching him with wide eyes he sneered at her with such malice she looked away. It was not long before he was gone, just as Adriel had suggested.

  Chapter 31

  Jonas strained to see through the line of clothes. The sun blinded him with every snap of fabric that allowed its rays to pass as the hung clothing danced in the spring breeze. He knew he couldn’t approach the house, but if he could just see her for one brief moment, he would be satisfied. He only wanted to set eyes on his beloved wife and know that she was well. If God could offer him that, he would leave her be.

  The heat of the day had left his clothing moist with sweat. He longed for a leather strap to tie back his hair. His booted feet stepped closer to the corner of the barn where the clothesline was suspended and he peered into his home. It was odd that although it was afternoon, the house was lit for evening as if a hallow of black clung to the home. Its amber windows glowed from the lanterns as darkness shrouded the home.

  He heard the soft buzzing of the insects. A dog barked in the distance and children squealed and chattered from someplace hidden amongst the hills. The scent of animals was strong on such a warm day.

  A figure passed by the window and he felt his heart leap. Was it his Abilene? He waited, watching the window closely, but only saw a blurred silhouette. Without realizing he moved, Jonas found himself before the front porch under the fading blue sky. He stepped closer to the porch and paused. The figure passed the window again, yet it seemed more blurred than before. He could clearly make out the items in the house that were within his view, yet when his wife passed she was no more than a smeared image.

  “I must see you!” he shouted at the house and the passing smudge of a body stilled as if contemplating his demand. “Please,” he whispered.

  The body moved and he straightened his shoulders. His heart raced in anticipation. Abilene. Beautiful Abilene.

  He watched as the knob slowly turned and held his breath waiting for her to step out. He frowned when nothing but a black, shadowlike ghost came through the doorway. He felt the bite of tears at the backs of his eyes and deep in his throat. Tipping his head back, he cursed and roared at the heavens.

  “Is it not enough you have taken her from me? Is it not enough you have had me forsake all that I love and cherish? Are you so wicked and set upon destroying me that you will not even allow me to set eyes upon my wife?”

  The wind began to howl and the remnants of any warmth from the day seemed to get siphoned away from the earth in one long gust of icy air. Jonas’s skin prickled. Dreary, frostbitten squalls replaced warm, sunlit caresses. He shivered and looked to the porch.

  “I am right here, Jonas.”

  The voice was feminine, but not Abilene’s. The shrouding blackness began to wash away like smoke, circling her body and then seeping into the breeze. Jonas sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled backward. It was Clara who stood before him.

  “I am ready for you, Jonas. Come back to me and we shall talk.”

  Jonas awoke with a start. He was not on his farm, but in the woods just a ways from Clara’s home. It was time. She had her answer. He cursed his betraying body for experiencing a thrill of excitement and a growing need coursing through his veins. He was at odds with the battle warring within him. His rational mind, what was left of it, craved only his Abilene. He still found any thought of betraying her abhorrent. Yet his body wanted Clara, his mate. In th
e past few days, he had spent watching her go about her business, he found his body throbbing and hardening from the simplest traces of her. Perhaps it was her scent that came to him on the kiss of a breeze. Perhaps it was her laughter that caressed his ears. He would not allow her to touch him, but at the same time he depleted all of his energy, forcing himself not to touch her. His mind called him a despicable male, while his body did the same for denying himself the opposite want. There was no satisfaction and he was slipping away.

  As Jonas cleaned himself in a nearby brook, he savored the stinging cold of the water. He rinsed the blood off his hands and cupped his palms, drawing a splash of water to his face. It was dark and he had no recollection of the prior day.

  As of late, he would find long parts of his days missing as if his mind had simply stepped out. He was forced to burrow deep within the earth during the daylight hours, no longer able to tolerate the littlest glimpse of sunlight. He had crafted himself a shelter of broken tree limbs and leaves. He was truly turning into an animal. A predator.

  He would wake to find his hands bloodied to his elbows and look around only to find his surroundings littered with the carcasses of smaller prey, rabbits, dear, foxes, he had slaughtered many and knew it would only get worse. He had not ingested actual food in weeks. He was surviving on blood. Blood his body knew was a sad excuse for the blood it needed, the blood he was being called to, Clara’s thick, rich, pumping, life-giving, hot blood.

  He began to move through the woods to the house. His steps were off-kilter as his balance was practically nonexistent. His palms scraped against the rough bark of the trees and his claws gouged the protective surface. He snarled as he hobbled toward her house and lost touch with himself for a bit.

  When his mind recovered from wherever it had been, Jonas realized he was at Clara’s front door. He waited impatiently for her to come to him. Where was she? He wanted her to be there, waiting as an obedient mate should. He growled at the door and licked his fang slowly as he grew more and more impatient.

  “Well, you’re a sight.”

  Jonas turned at the sound of another male’s voice. Who was this male and why was he lingering around his mate’s home? He snarled and the male held up his hands.

  “Whoa, Father, settle yourself. I mean you or yours no harm. I am here to help you.”

  Jonas saw flashes in his mind of a child. Two children. Identical boys. He saw them as young men, still awkward and not quite filled out. He saw a baby nursing from Abilene’s breast. Visions flashed through his mind until finally he saw this male before him as his son. “Cain?”

  “Yes, Father, Cain. Do you think we could talk?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I have already explained this to you. I have come to assist you.”

  “Assist me in what?”

  “That is up to you. Have you decided how you wish to proceed?”

  “You would betray your mother so?” Jonas snapped with disgust.

  “She asked me to do this.”

  “Then you betray me!”

  “It appears I am always betraying someone. I suppose your time has come that it be you.”

  “Leave!”

  “I cannot, Father,” he said smoothly as he leaned against the railing of the porch and crossed his legs at the ankle as if he had not a care in the world. Jonas found his son’s arrogance unfavorable.

  “Why?”

  “Because there are three mortals in that house that do not deserve to suffer your wrath at what God has set before you. They are innocent and I find myself rather fond of the little one. I will not allow you to harm them.”

  “I would not harm an innocent creature.”

  “Really? Have you not seen the massacres you have been leaving in your wake? You are past a point where your word holds honor. I’m not leaving.”

  The front door opened and they both turned. A small child with blue eyes and hair the color of sun-bleached wheat stood watching them. She seemed to be mostly watching him, but glancing at Cain to make sure he was there. She did not say a word.

  Cain held out his arm and the girl slowly walked to his side, not taking her eyes off of Jonas until her little hand fit tenderly into Cain’s much larger one. “Where is Shimmers, Cybil?” The girl pointed at the house, but did not answer. Cain whistled and a hideous dog came tromping from the back side of the house. “Is Dane still out wandering around?”

  The little girl looked up at Cain with large eyes and nodded slowly. Cain patted his side and the ugly dog barked and trotted closer. He reached down and scooped the child into his arms, positioning her over his hip. She held his shoulders and continued to watch Jonas. “Let’s go find your brother. I think Mr. Jonas and your grandmother need to talk.”

  Jonas watched as they turned away, male, child, and dog trotting off as one. For some reason the image hurt his brain. He felt sad and alone as if some nostalgic nerve had been hit. Tingles of pride tickled his heart, yet he could not fathom why. The sound of a gun cocking had him turning.

  “I am quite tired and weak today, Jonas, so I’d rather not have to lug around this big gun. Have you found your manners or do I need to threaten you again?”

  Jonas cleared his throat. “I shall behave.” He had no idea what offense he was being accused of, but he had missed so much lately he did not doubt he had somehow offended his mate. He did not want her to hold him at arm’s length. He wanted to go to her. He would be as well behaved as a saint if that was what she required of him in order to abide his presence.

  “Come on inside then. This weather is not good for my brittle bones.”

  He followed her inside. As she placed the gun in the corner, Jonas passed his hand over her white hair. It was silky and practically weightless in his touch. She turned and arched an eyebrow at him. Her expression was tolerant, yet fed up.

  “Do not begin to get fresh with me, young man. I didn’t put up with it yesterday and I will not put up with it today.”

  Her rejection stung, but he lowered his arm and stepped back.

  They sat in the living room in silence for some time. She was the first to break the quiet. “I spoke to my doctor today. I am running out of time. My tests show my counts are very low where they should be high and very high were they should be low. My kidneys are also in danger of failing. Once that happens I will only have a matter of hours, perhaps a day or two. I think it is time you tell me what you are doing here and exactly how you figure you can help me.”

  Jonas nodded. “Like I have told you, I am not as young as you assume. My family is blessed with immortality. We do not age and we are very difficult to destroy.”

  “Everything dies, Jonas.”

  He was impressed by how easily she discussed such matters. It was as if she believed nothing was impossible at this stage of her life. Nothing except immortality. “Not us. Yes, we can be killed, but it is not easy.”

  “How can you be killed?”

  “Do you wish to wound me, sweet Clara?”

  She rolled her eyes and mumbled something about him being too cheeky. “I wish to understand how someone who believes they are immortal dies.”

  “All right. If we are wounded mortally and trapped in a fire we will die. In very rare occasions the sun can burn us. Decapitation is unfixable as well as having our heart ripped from our body. In rare cases, a blood disorder can be transmitted to us. If it is not dealt with in time, it can prove deadly. Those are the only ways to my knowledge.”

  “You say the sun can burn you?”

  “Only in certain situations.”

  “And every time I see you it is after the sun has set. Are you suffering these circumstances, Jonas?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded and looked away. “You know, my grandson can read minds. I am not sure how he does it. My daughter never believed he could. Over the years, though, I have seen enough proof to believe it. Cybil has not spoken a word since her mother died, yet Dane knows what she is thinking and can talk with her as i
f she were speaking as usual. I am too old to be naive or arrogant. I believe there is a God, no matter how much I am not happy with him at the moment, and I believe we are ignorant to think humankind is all this exists for. So tell me Jonas, what are you?”

  He looked at the floor for quite some time. He had never confessed such a thing to a mortal. It seemed stuck in his throat. When he finally looked at her, his voice was barely a whisper. “I am vampyre.”

  “Like Dracula?”

  Jonas knew of this fictional creature. “Yes, but I live by a code and I am not evil.”

  “Are you here to harm me?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “I am here because if I do not claim you as my mate, I will die. Either that or go insane. I do not wish either.”

  “Yet, you do not seem to wish to claim me as well. What is required for a vampire to claim a human?”

  “I must bed you and we must bond by exchanging blood.”

  Her head fell back and she laughed heartily. She began to cough and then settled herself once more. “And you suppose I would simply agree to this? Sorry to disappoint you, Jonas, but Arthur was the only man I have ever been with. He was the first and he will be the last.”

  “Do not speak to me of bedding other males,” he growled.

  “Do I need to get the gun?” she asked, raising a brow. “What is really happening here, Jonas? You do not wish this. I am an old lady. I am dying. You, from what your son tells me, are very much in love with your wife. Why do this?”

  “I have no choice. It will destroy me to ignore the call. No male is strong enough to do so. I must accept God’s will and complete this task or I will never see Abilene again.”

  “So you intend to bed me and then go back to your wife? And what am I supposed to do with the rest of eternity. I suppose if we take each other’s blood, as you say is required, I will then be like you. That is how you intended to make my cancer go away, is it not?”