The Vampire's Shared Bride

by Bonnie Burrows

  “An address? How…” Quarto was confused, it couldn’t be as simple as an address. There had to be more—magic or obstacles… something.

  Valermo smiled like the cat who’d gotten the cream. “You would be right about the magic issue, but there is a magical address to go along with it. A delivery address.”

  “A delivery address?” Quarto allowed himself a small smile, “They actually have things delivered to their home?”

  “Too many centuries among the humans I think. They keep it attached to one of the internet sites the humans use—Amazon?” Valermo guessed before shaking his head and moving on. “Marcus was able to procure the address and followed it to confirm that it did in fact lead to a home.”

  Standing quickly, Quarto found himself growing excited, his human skin feeling too tight for his energy. “We must plan then, send guards to track the area, and locate the weak points in their security.”

  “We don’t have time for that, brother.”

  “Why?”

  “Now is the perfect opportunity!”

  Quarto waited a beat for his brother to continue, staring at the smug looking man, but Valermo remained silent.

  “You know I can’t read your mind, Valermo—tell me all of the information now. Our contract implores you to.”

  Now Valermo’s smile spread so it reached from cheek to cheek. “The girl is alone.”

  “No…” The word fell softly from Quarto’s lips. The anxiety of the weeks of waiting fell from Quarto like dropping a heavy burden.

  “Oh yes,” Valermo confirmed, “Marcus watched the vampires leave at dusk in a darkly tinted car. He has no intel on how long they’ll be away, but they are no longer in the manor. I’ve told him to head home—I don’t want to risk his involvement.”

  “No,” Quarto exclaimed quickly. “No, get the human back. We can use him—the girl knows him.”

  “Yes, but he’s always been in this for revenge on the vampires. He won’t respond well if harm befalls the girl.”

  Quarto shrugged. “I don’t think harm should befall the girl either. She’s far more valuable alive—at least until the vampires come to save her.” His smile turned wolfish, “Then I don’t care who dies—Siona, Marcus—as long as the vampires die along with them.”

  ***

  For once in her life, Siona was enjoying the act of ironing. The boys had headed out to confer with two other pairs of vampires about the dragon problem. Siona knew that even though there had been no evidence of the magical beings since Valad’s injuries months ago, the threat of their attack weighed heavily on Valad and Michael’s shoulders.

  She gathered that the attack, like Valad and Michael’s purpose in New York, was part of a larger plan that she had no perspective on. Siona had tried lately to parse through Valad and Michael’s words to try and figure out what it was they protected—because as loved as she was by the vampires, Siona knew she wasn’t the entire purpose of their being. Which explained why, much to Michael’s dismay, the vampires had made the decision to leave at dusk for their meeting. Siona knew that they were torn between leaving her and taking her, but no one wanted to risk the baby’s safety.

  Shaking out the second gold curtain, Siona spread it across the ironing board. When the baby kicked in delight, Siona decided that it was a sign that her daughter approved of the color choice. With a hand resting on her growing bump, Siona glanced over to the boy’s bedding in the corner of the room and reminded herself that it was better to be safe than sorry. Michael and Valad were showing her that day after day as they tightened the security and calmed her need to escape the manor.

  It was just hard to live without any outside contact. Siona lived for her visits to the doctor once a month. Never before had she been so happy to sit in a waiting room, surrounded by strangers. Saddest was that her connection with Kayla had been physically cut off. Valad and Michael were worried that the girl would provide too many opportunities for attack so all contact happened by burner phone conversations. Untraceable was the buzzword of the day.

  When the doorbell rang, Siona wasn’t sure what the noise was at first. They hadn’t had anyone ring the delivery bell after dusk, well, ever. But an earlier check of her email had shown that Siona was still missing a gold polka-dot wall clock that matched the bedding she was currently prepping. Tonight was supposed to be her night to revel in room preparation since the boys would be away for most of their waking hours, and Siona was greedy enough to really want the clock.

  But Siona wasn’t stupid.

  Wandering into the kitchen a few minutes later with the ringing of the bell as background noise she approached Mrs. Kettle.

  “Hello Siona, are you and the baby hungry for a snack?” Mrs. Kettle asked with a motherly glance at Siona and her bump.

  “That sounds really good actually,” Siona said as her stomach grumbled in response. “But first, would you mind answering the delivery door? I’m pretty sure it’s one of the accessories for the baby’s room and I’m in the middle of organizing everything right now. I’d love to see what else came in.”

  Mrs. Kettle frowned a little, but her kind eyes searched Siona’s excited face and the housekeeper seemed to be considering. “Oh, I don’t know my dear... The boys will be back later this evening. Surely, they can attend to the package at that point... If the delivery man would just leave the package.”

  Turning her frown in the direction of the still buzzing delivery door, Mrs. Kettle dropped the tea towel she had been using to polish a vase.

  “You’re probably right Mrs. Kettle. It’s just that the baby was getting so excited each time I opened a new package. I just have this sixth sense that she knows what’s going on. I think we have a design maven on our hands.” Siona paused before dropping her final maneuver, “I was just feeling a little lonely with the boys gone and the idea that I could almost have the room done to surprise them…”

  Siona trailed off with a sigh and slowly moved toward the hallway to the rest of the house. She hadn’t made it more than three steps before Mrs. Kettle broke.

  “Oh, well, I’m sure I can go grab the package. I’d hate to think that it was something that needs a signature. Those are always the hardest to get back to the house. Go back to the nursery—I’ll bring it up.”

  Siona watched as Mrs. Kettle hung up her apron and slowly walked to the hallway that led to the rest of the house before moving into vampire speed to run to the delivery door. Siona felt a satisfied smile spread over her face. Grabbing some cheddar bunnies from the cupboard, Siona slowly—in her very human, slightly pregnant speed—moved back toward the nursery, already thinking about which wall the clock would look best on. It would be cool over the crib, but she also liked the idea of it hanging over the changing table.

  Siona was halfway across the foyer when she heard the noise. Stopping, Siona listened closer to the slap, slap, slap echoing through the hallways. Mrs. Kettle would have said that it sounded like a herd of buffalo—a legitimate statement as Mrs. Kettle had actually been around when the American buffalo was still alive. As the noise grew louder, a part of her began to scream to move—to hide—but the larger part of her was transfixed by the slapping noise. Siona had an overwhelming need to place it.

  All of a sudden, it came to her. The noise was sneakers running across the stone floors of the manor. A sound Siona had never heard before as the vampires managed to run silently no matter their speed. This sound was at the pace of regular old humans.

  When the trio rounded the corner, Siona was far too late to heed her instinct to run. As they approached without breaking stride, the bowl of cheddar bunnies dropped from her hands as if in slow motion. The sound of the glass breaking a soundtrack to the beginning of her prophecy. Something in Siona knew that this never would have been avoided, but still she couldn’t contain her scream.

  *

  Mrs. Kettle had always been proud of her ability to remain calm in a crisis. She had been turned to a vampire in the English countryside after a massacre
. It was her fortitude that allowed her to keep her heart beating until dusk when Michael and Valad had scoured the field looking for survivors. Mrs. Kettle had known that they would come then and she knew that they could save the day now.

  Nothing in her being allowed her to think otherwise.

  Slowing her speed, Mrs. Kettle scanned the names of the restaurant along the block. She knew they were at the Italian dive, “Amore,” an old handler of one of the other vampire pairs ran it. Three hours from the manor, it was quite likely one of the least opportune places for the boys to be during a crisis like this. Even with vampire speed, it had taken her almost forty-five minutes to reach the place.

  Mrs. Kettle had to push her need to quantify the time that had passed and the time that still lay in front of them before they would even be close enough to help Siona get away. When she had answered the delivery door, she had been hit and hit hard by one of the dragons. Mrs. Kettle knew they were the dragons by their smell. Two dragons and one human. A human that she had smelled on Siona once before after a trip into town. It infuriated Mrs. Kettle that someone Siona was close enough to touch had turned on her.

  Upon waking, Mrs. Kettle had found the doorway to the rest of the manor locked. With her ear against the door, she’d heard heavy footsteps running toward the barrier, and in that split second, Mrs. Kettle had decided to flee. The footsteps were not Siona’s and Mrs. Kettle was the only one left to give Valad and Michael warning—she was the only one left to help save the day. It was a role she hadn’t played in a very long time.

  After the death of her vampire husband, Mrs. Kettle had chosen a placement as a housekeeper to guardians. In the beginning, America had been the Wild West in the fight between the veils. Mrs. Kettle had fought with Michael and Valad to keep the peace for many years. However, as time and technology increased, the veils had become standard portals and there wasn’t the fight for power that once existed.

  Until the dragons, that was. Mrs. Kettle felt the anger rise within her as she pushed her way through the doors of “Amore.” She walked past the hostess, ignoring the woman’s insistent calls asking if she needed help. Mrs. Kettle walked down a dark wood hallway stained with the scents of roasted garlic and basil until she was greeted with another set of double doors. Pushing through these as well, Mrs. Kettle ignored the stares of the kitchen crew and stayed her course until she found a door marked “Private” at the back of the busy space.

  One knock brought the quiet murmurs on the other side of the door to a halt.

  “Who is it?” a male voice from Mrs. Kettle’s past called out.

  “Frederick, I need Valad and Michael.”

  Suddenly the door opened inward as a chair fell belatedly in the background of the room. Mrs. Kettle was left to blink up at Michael, “What’s wrong?” his icy voice demanded.

  Valad reached from behind Michael and pulled her into the room; the door shut again behind her. Without delay, Mrs. Kettle shared the news.

  “The manor was attacked by two dragons and a human. I believe they left me alive to warn you of the threat. They have Soina locked in the new part of the manor—the doors are warded by locks new and old. I know this because I couldn’t get through.”

  “We’re so far away…” Valad stated in disbelief.

  “Roughly forty-five minutes,” Mrs. Kettle confirmed. “And I was unconscious for an unknown period of time. They’ve had her for at least two hours now.” Mrs. Kettle waited for the men to spring to action, and tried not to feel the seconds ticking by as the three other men and single female vampire also present in the room spoke in harsh tones. “The time has come,” Michael said, turning to the group. “The dragons have attacked our gateway looking to get a foothold in the human side of the veil.

  I believe this is proof enough for the doubters.” Mrs. Kettle noticed that Valad shifted his eyes to Frederick, the only vampire Mrs. Kettle was personally acquainted with in the room. The short vampire had always been a man of caution. It was why he was one of the oldest vampires in existence—and one of the most powerful. Guarding the gateway had been meant to be a retirement of sorts for Frederick. A period of rest outside of the political sphere he had once inhabited.

  Frederick nodded. “Then there is no time to waste. You said it was only two dragons?”

  “Well, yes. When they attacked Valad there were only two. However I can’t imagine that in the last few hours they haven’t called in the rest of their blaze.”

  “Blazes,” Michael reminded everyone. “There are two leaders of two separate blazes in play. That’s at least fifty dragons to contend with.”

  “You know she’s a lure,” Frederick intoned softly. “A vulnerable, human, lure. A baited fly is only useful until she lands the big fish.”

  Valad drew himself up to his full height and turned to his old friend, “She is the love of our lives. We’ve been waiting centuries for her. I will fight until my death to save her and I will fulfill my duty as a guardian of a gateway to protect the order of crossing. Will you honor your duty as well?”

  The other three vampires seemed to be waiting for Frederick’s reaction. They weren’t privy to the entire situation and appeared to trust in the elder vampire’s reaction to map their own participation.

  “I didn’t live this long being an oath breaker if that is what you are inferring,” Frederick bowed his head slightly. “Nor did I live this long without helping friends when help was asked for. Favors are a commodity I hold dear to my heart.”

  “Then you have two, one from each of us,” Michael assured quickly.

  “Well then,” Frederick said turning to the others. “Let us head out. Humans aren’t known to last too long under the protection of dragons.”

  Michael glared sideways at the man as he rushed out of the restaurant. “She’s no longer a simple human.”

  Mrs. Kettle stumbled in surprise and Valad held her elbow to right her.

  “We must go now,” Valad said seriously into her eyes.

  “Yes, yes, we must,” Mrs. Kettle agreed shelving her questions and following in the middle of the pack.

  The run felt every inch the almost two hundred miles it was. Long lengths of open road and paved stone winding its way through forest, hill, and towns. For the first few minutes of the run Frederick, Michael, and Valad discussed strategy. Though they would be returning to their own home, the dragons had been ensconced for hours now. There would be a mounted defense. The idea of fighting through two blazes of dragons wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. Or a good idea for that matter. For a solid twenty minutes, they seemed to be stuck at an impasse of simply fighting through the dragons and attempting to sneak Valad passed the frontline and into the manor.

  Suddenly Mrs. Kettle had a breakthrough, “Wait, use the lab chimney!”

  Michael almost stopped running and Mrs. Kettle had to swerve to miss hitting him. Michael caught up and started running alongside her, “What do you mean? The stakes are high—we would only be placing ourselves closer to the dragons.”

  “No,” Mrs. Kettle corrected him as Valad and Frederick pulled up next to them as well. “Not the new lab. The old lab—the one burred slightly offsite. The one you used to use when we first came to the continent. You didn’t backfill it, did you?”

  This time it was Valad who almost tripped the group up. “No. I’ve been on you for years to fill the damn thing in but you keep putting it off.”

  “It would make a good bomb shelter,” Michael muttered, but it was obvious his mind was moving a mile a minute in other directions.

  Mrs. Kettle filled the silence with her own hastily concocted plan. “We can enter through the old chimney. It’s covered by brush and was knocked down a hundred years ago in a storm. The thing is only about five feet off the ground. Once we’re in, we can follow the tunnel into the kitchen of the new manor. It feeds into the pantry—where I keep the potatoes.”

  The men mulled the plan over for a minute before Michael declared their final plan of attack. “
Mrs. Kettle is right. The old tunnel is our best way in. I doubt they’ll be guarding it—we haven’t used it in centuries.”

  “Are you sure?” Frederick asked. “I don’t want to inform the others we have a shot at missing a dragon war all together if you don’t think this is the way to go. Should we divide forces just in case?”

  “No,” Valad said firmly. “I was almost killed by two lieutenants of the dragon lords. The seven of us don’t stand a chance against one blaze, much less two. But if we take out the lords…” Valad trailed off.

  Frederick smiled and finished the thought, “Then the blazes will fold. They operate off leadership.”

  Mrs. Kettle was confused, “Do you really think they’ll both be waiting inside?”

  “Our intel said that they were firmly in human form while on this side of the veil. I can’t imagine they would have risked such fragile bodies to the chance at war.”

  As the entrance to the manor appeared ahead, Michael finished the debate, “Well, we’re about to find out.”

  ***

  Siona rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

  “You smell funny,” the one named Valermo lobbed at her.

  Facing the TV, Siona slowly closed her eyes. Closing a protective hand on her abdomen, she was relieved to feel her child’s strong kick against her palm.

  “Well, I haven’t showered this evening. Perhaps you’d care to let me take care of that?” Siona suggested with a smirk.

  The other one, Quarto, gave her a sly smile. “Girl, I think the issue with your smell goes beyond your human scent range. This is more, shall we say, elemental. Something is elementally wrong with you.”

  Gritting her teeth, Siona turned toward the window, watching the huge forms of the dragons circle the manor. For hours now, Siona had endured the questions of the dragon lords. In the beginning, they had all centered on her importance to the vampires, but after a tour of the manor had revealed the shared bedroom, questions had circled back to her pregnancy and currently, her smell.

  Siona’s gut told her that whatever was going on in her body beyond the pregnancy, it would behoove her not to feed into the line of questioning. “Can we not simply wait in silence for my heroes to save me? I’m elementally tired of your voice.”