“How do you kill a vampyre?”
He stilled. “Are you doing research for future endeavors, pintura?”
“No, I just figured it’s something I should know. I mean, can I die if someone shoots me with a silver bullet or if I accidentally stab myself with a wooden stake?”
“Those things would hurt, but they would not end your life.”
“So I’m, like, really immortal? I could throw myself in front of a train and live to brag about it?”
“Delilah,” he said with censure in his voice. “Immortality is many things, unfortunately it is not without pain. I suggest you stay away from all moving locomotives.”
She pursed her lips. “So tell me. How does one off a vamp? You know, in case I ever meet nosferatu walking alone at night.”
He sighed. “Very well.” Taking a seat on the bed he drew her near. “Immortals are never truly promised eternal life. We must be careful. True, we have rapid healing abilities and can withstand much more than mere mortals, but never underestimate that gift. It can quickly become a curse. Eternity is a long time to be left in an…uncomfortable situation.”
She thought about Tom Cruise being burned alive and forced to live off rats until he got a hold of Christian Slater years later. Yeah, she could see things backfiring for an arrogant vamp.
“A stake will not do more than wound an immortal,” he explained. “However, if staked enough and left in a dangerous place, we will weaken and eventually begin to decompose. There is sometimes a fate worse than death. Our bodies need nutrition to regenerate and remain strong. Our minds need nothing to work. There are stories…of immortals…being forced to live as corpses because they are too weak to see to their needs.”
“Ew.”
“Yes, it is not a pleasant thought. This is one of the reasons we avoid the English world. English are curious. They enjoy playing God and discovering the mechanics behind every living thing, leaving little mystery. If they were to discover our kind, we fear they would run experiments that could be catastrophic. We are more animal than human by nature. While we believe in peace, we are only a small fraction of our species. If word got out that mortals were harming us, I have no doubt there’d be retaliation unlike any of us ever imagined.”
“Vampyre apocalypse.”
He smirked. “You have a very vivid imagination, pintura.” He kissed her nose. “There are ways to immediately end an immortal’s life, however.”
“How?”
He quirked his lips. “Promise you will not use these theories on your mate?”
She shoved him. “Come on, Christian, tell me.”
“Very well. We can be burned to death and decapitated.”
“So the sun is really harmless to you guys. Nice tan by the way. The Cullens would be jealous.”
“The sun can only harm us when we are too weak to escape it. It does burn over long periods of time without shade and if we are left in a weakened predicament, it can do damage.”
“But…Gracie said you guys could die if you don’t find your mate. She said that’s why you needed me.”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t say I needed you as much as I wanted you. But yes, it is very dangerous to ignore a call. Our kind, once called, becomes feeish. We regress into our more animalistic traits. Sensitivity to the sun, vertigo, insatiable hunger, all eventually drive us to bloodlust. We become hungry for the blood of our mate and only her blood will do. Unfortunately, the longer we go without bonding, the more detached from our rational mind we become. It is then that we are a threat to all.
“I have seen immortals lose their minds, searching for their mates, mass genocide, in the hopes of falling upon that one donor whose blood calls them to the point of distraction and madness. It is a horrible thing to witness and, as an order devoted in faith and rooted in beliefs of peace, we have agreed it is not worth the loss of innocent life to save one immortal. Our laws state that if this were to happen, it is The Order’s duty to destroy that unanswered immortal.”
Her lips parted. “So if you wouldn’t have found me…?”
“Yes, I would have gone mad and likely been destroyed.”
“But…”
“It is what I would have wanted. I cannot harm another living thing. It is against everything I believe in. My life is not worth the loss of innocent blood.”
She frowned. He could not possibly be that selfless.
“I do not speak untruths, Delilah. I would not want such a fate. But I did find you and when I did, I saw no use in wasting time. God called me to you and you were mine. Had I waited, you too, would have eventually felt the pull. I did not see the sense in waiting and risking my sanity. I did not want to lose myself and risk taking you brutally, too far gone to know how to read your comforts.”
“You mean you would have raped me?” She couldn’t imagine him so far gone. Christian was stubborn, but he was always in control of his actions.
“Rape is an unfortunate part of becoming feeish. Like I said, we are more animal than human at times.”
She took a deep breath and a shiver chased up her spine. His knuckles grazed her cheek. “I would never hurt you, Delilah. That time is over and we have nothing to fear of it ever returning. You are mine and I am yours. No matter how much we frustrate each other we would never be capable of truly hurting the other.”
“People hurt their spouses all the time where I’m from.”
“It is different here. And you are more than my spouse. You are my mate.”
He stood and fit his hat onto his head. She stared at him for a long moment. There was no doubt, immortal or not, if Christian wanted to hurt her he could. He was at least a foot taller than her and built like a brick shithouse. He gave her a half smile.
“Hey, how come you guys don’t wear beards?”
He shrugged. “The females find them unattractive and the males find them uncomfortable. We do not think it is a defining factor in living a pure life, so we simply do not have them.”
Yeah, she was glad for that. Christian had a hard jaw that always looked due for a shave. It was one of the sexiest traits he had. A beard hiding all that man candy goodness would be tragic.
“I’ll go ready the carriage and meet you out front in a few minutes.”
As Christian left a ball of nerves settled into the pit of Delilah’s stomach. She hadn’t been to church since she was a little girl and she’d never been to any Amish church. She had absolutely no way of knowing what to expect, especially when those so called Amish were a bunch of bloodthirsty vampyres.
Rather than go for something fancy, she found her fingers braiding her hair into something similar to what she’d seen the other girls do to their hair on the farm. For once in her life she didn’t want to stick out. They would know she was the newbie. She wanted to blend and hopefully not draw any unwanted attention.
Once she had her bonnet fitted on her head and her dress in place, she took a steadying breath and headed down to meet Christian. As she stepped onto the porch she nearly tripped over a chicken. The thing chirped and fluffed its wings at her and she jumped.
Chickens weren’t as cute in person. This one had a patch of pimpled flesh showing over its beak and its eyes looked possessed.
It did a funny little pecking walk around the porch and she hugged the perimeter so not to piss it off. “Easy, Camilla,” she said, walking around the hen. “Go find Gonzo. Go on…shoo.”
She looked up and saw three kittens lounging on the railing of the porch. They—as cats often did—seemed uninterested in her menial presence, but eyed her all the same. Something chirped and she turned. What the fuck was that?
A horse whickered and she glanced to the front of the yard. Christian worked beside a black horse tightening something on its back. “Christian, you’re infested with rats,” she called, eying the tiny, fast moving chirping things scurrying around the steps, successfully blocking her exit.
“They are not rats.” He chuckled. “They are chipmunks. Stomp your foot and t
hey will run off.”
She stomped and they stilled. Then their little bodies lifted like circus poodles begging for a treat. “Uhh…”
He came closer. “I’ve never seen them this close to the house before. They usually stick to the wooded areas of the farm.” He clapped his hands and they scurried. “They are harmless,” he said, lifting his hand to take hers.
She placed her hand in his and he led her down the steps. She looked back at the angry chicken one last time. “What about the chicken?”
“She had better move on or she will find herself in my kitchen.”
Delilah stilled. “Not funny, Christian.”
He hid his laugh. “If it is still here when we return I will move her back to the coop.”
It was like National Geographic around here. He led her to the carriage. It was small, black and simple. “Can I drive?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even consider it.”
“I know.”
She sighed and let him help her into the back. The bench was small and made of wood. There was a metal clutch sticking out of the floor. “Hey, there’s electric in this jalopy.”
“Batteries operate the lights and they are necessary. As much as we have a right to the roads, the English like to forget that fact. It can be dangerous at night and during bad weather.”
He seated himself next to her and plucked up the worn leather reins. They were soon on their way. The carriage jostled and Delilah gripped the wooden seat, wishing there were some kind of seat belt. Right, immortal. Unless this bad boy burst into flames she was safe.
The steady clip clop of horse hooves drowned out all other sound. The air was fresh and the breeze on her face was pleasant. They were moving at a good speed and Christian seemed to have command of the vehicle.
She wanted to ask where church was, but traveling in an open carriage was noisier than she expected and she didn’t feel like yelling. She also didn’t want to distract him, no matter how at ease he seemed.
They soon fell in line behind a couple other carriages. She assumed they were filled with their kind of Amish because they made all the same turns and seemed to be heading in the same direction. Delilah waited and watched the country roads roll by as her nervousness grew with each turn of the wooden wheels.
They pulled onto the grass along several other carriages. “Is this church?”
Christian smiled and lifted her down from the carriage. “We do not have a church, pintura. We meet in our homes. This is Elder Thaddeus Christner’s home. He is the father of Abilene Hartzler and a distant relative to the Gerigs.”
“I have no idea how you keep all these names straight.”
“You will learn in time.”
“Good day, Bredder Christian,” a young boy dressed in blue said as Christian handed off the reins.
“Good day, young Nathanial. Are you having a fine time of it this spring?”
“My father has told me I can soon start working the great field with him.”
“Wonderful.” Christian tousled the young boy’s hair. “See that Petunia gets some water will you?”
“Petunia, sir?”
Delilah hid a laugh. He’d remembered the name she gave the horse. Christian smiled. “Yes. My dear mate here, Delilah, has given all of my animals names. Do you not approve, Nathanial?”
The boy frowned at her as though she were nuts. Who had pets and didn’t name them?”
“Tis God’s job.”
Delilah snapped her lips shut. She wasn’t touching that.
They walked toward the old colonial, following a dawdling line of women and men all dressed in similar drab clothing. Her stomach tightened as her nervousness doubled.
The room was stuffy and only lit with the light seeping in through the windows. There were tons of them. The entire right side of the room was filled with white bonneted heads. All females. They sat on backless wooden benches and Delilah had a flashback to being a little girl and squirming on the backed wooden pews at her church. Hopefully this wouldn’t last long or she’d end up with a numb ass for days.
Men sat in the section to the left. Did they not mingle during service? She looked for someone she recognized, but they all looked so incredibly alike in that moment. Christian nudged her toward an open seat only wide enough for her. Panic gripped her.
“Aren’t you sitting with me?” she whispered, barely moving her lips.
He hesitated and then leaned close. “Delilah, I should have explained this. I am an elder. I must meet in the back with the bishop and the other elders to decide who will be preaching today.”
She gripped his arm through his sleeve. “I don’t want to be here all alone.”
“They won’t bite, Delilah.”
“Not funny, Christian.”
He caressed her cheek. “I am sorry, love. I must go. It is my duty. I will return as soon as possible.”
“But what if they expect me to do something?”
“No one expects you to know what is happening. The service will be said in mostly High German. Just do what those next to you are doing and you will be fine.”
He stepped to leave and she squeezed his arm. She drew in a breath, but said nothing. He gave her a pleading glance and she released him. As he turned she sat down beside a young girl who had a springy blond curl peeking from her bonnet.
“Hi. I’m Maggie. You must be Delilah. Dane told me about you.”
Delilah turned. The girl’s smile was friendly enough. “Hi. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
The girl giggled. “Just follow along and you’ll be fine. I try to pass the time by thinking of places I’d rather be.”
Delilah nodded. She normally would’ve made some sort of joke, but she was too uncomfortable at the moment.
Suddenly, everyone began to sing. It wasn’t any song close to anything she’d heard before. She tightened her lips, facing straight ahead, but watched the others with sidelong glances.
After the singing a man came out to stand in the front. He spoke in what Delilah supposed was High German. There was much emotion behind his words and she caught some of the females dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs.
Christian appeared and her chest lifted as she drew in a deep breath. He opened a book of scripture and read. His voice was strong and deep. She didn’t understand what he was saying, but she loved listening to him talk. When he finished there was a traveling creak of wood throughout the room. She got excited, thinking it was over, but rather, everyone moved to kneel.
They kneeled right on the floor. There were no cushioned kneelers like in her childhood church. No one said a word. They just kneeled and kneeled and kneeled in absolute silence.
She shifted her weight from side to side and imagined things like Vietnam and King Henry’s reign. She decided she wouldn’t last long in any sort of torture situation. Her knees were screaming for a break and her back wanted nothing more than to curl and relax.
Dear God, just tell me what information you want and it’s yours! I need to sit!
Several heads turned toward her. Fuck. They can hear me.
Delilah looked down and tried to blank her mind.
There once was a man from Nantucket, Whose…No!
Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third. That’s what I want to find out. I said, Who’s on first, What’s on second, and I Don’t Know is on third. Well, who’s on first? Yes. I mean the fellow’s name. Who. The guy on first. Who. The first baseman. The guy playing. Who is on first!
Wide eyes turned on her. Luckily, everyone returned to his or her seats. Delilah practically cried with relief and rubbed her knees through her gown. Looking to the front she saw Christian, pressing his lips tight as if trying not to laugh at her. She stuck out her tongue at him and he bowed his head and smiled.
Another man spoke, then another read. There was more silence, followed by more singing, then more reading, and more talking. Every word was spoken in German. Children often moved
about the room from mother to father unnoticed. One little girl was nibbling on what looked like Cheerios. Delilah would have liked some cereal. She sighed and finally it was all over.
The parishioners stood and smiled and greeted one another. It was the longest church service she’d ever been through in her entire life. She didn’t have a watch, but she’d bet it had been almost three hours since they arrived.
“Did you manage all right, pintura?”
She turned and faced a smirking Christian. “You guys do this every week?”
“No, only every other.”
She let out a breath. “It must be nice up there on the chairs.”
He laughed quietly. “Come, let us break our fast and join the others outside.”
In the yard there were several tables set that she hadn’t noticed before. Maybe she could get a spot on the breakfast committee next time. Women carried covered dishes and people sat to eat and talk. She spotted Anna and Adam and waved. Christian stilled.
“Can we sit with them?”
He followed her gaze and hesitantly nodded. They sat across from the couple. Little Cain was playing in the grass and Lucy was shoveling some sort of noodle dish into her mouth by the fistful.
“Where’s Destiny?”
“She and Cain do not usually attend service,” Adam said. Delilah didn’t comment.
A shadow fell over her and she turned. Christian’s mother stood to her left.
“Hello, Delilah. I am glad to see you are still with us.”
“Hi, Adriel. Would you like to sit down?”
The woman looked at Christian. “I would not want to overstay my welcome.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “Mother, do sit down. You are a terrible martyr.”
She lifted her chin, sniffed, and lowered herself into the seat beside Christian. Dane came to sit with them and Gracie, who’d just arrived, avoided all eye contact with him. Adriel chatted over how big Anna and Adam’s children were getting.
“Mind if I join you?”
Delilah turned at the soft voice and found Maggie, the young girl she sat next to in service standing with a plate. “Not at all,” Delilah said, scooting to her right.
Call Her Mine Page 18