A Vampire's Honor

by Carla Susan Smith

  “When he’s done, of course. It would nae do any good to return before then.” Pulling his dark brows together, he added, “You canna leave your demons behind so easily, lass.” I nearly jumped, wondering if he was referring to demons in general or my own personal ambassador to the Dark Realm. “Ye canna run from what has happened to ye, Rowan. Ye must deal with it head-on. Don’t let that bastard Kartel define who you are.”

  “So you’re saying I should stay here and wait for Gabriel to return.”

  “Aye, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

  “No matter how long it takes?”

  “Aye.”

  I stared at him. “You know where he is, don’t you?”

  “Aye.”

  “But you’re not going to tell me, are you?” The laugh that erupted from him was startling. I couldn’t ever remember hearing Tomas laugh before. He turned his back and began getting out some cups and saucers. “You’re not making tea, are you?”

  I wasn’t sure if the Scots were as addicted to tea as the English. After watching Downton Abbey I was well aware that any crisis could be averted over a cup of tea. Unfortunately, I already knew I hated the stuff. I was pretty sure what I’d been offered in the Dark Realm was on a par with anything Carson served Lady Grantham.

  “No tea,” Tomas assured me. “How about some of my special coffee . . . with a wee kick?” Tomas’s “special” coffee didn’t need anything added to it, but who was I to turn down a wee kick?

  “I let him down, didn’t I? I mean with the whole Kartel thing. I should never have let him take my blood.”

  What were you supposed to do? Let him shatter your bones?

  “And just how were you going to stop him?” Tomas said, echoing my inner bitch.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I just feel I should have done something.”

  “You did,” the sentinel said quietly. “You gave only what was demanded of you. No more, no less.”

  Like all things Tomas turned his hand to, the coffee was very good. And it had more than a wee kick. We both sat and sipped in silence. Each lost in our own thoughts as a contemplative silence enveloped us.

  “Can I tell ye something, lass?” Tomas asked, breaking the quiet between us.

  “Of course.”

  He stared at me, his expression becoming serious. “Gabriel loves you something fierce, and there’s nothing he would nae do, no risk he would nae take, for such a bonnie lass as you. He just canna always give you the whys of what he does, no matter how much he may want to. When he leaves you, as he has now, it’s because he has no choice. You have no idea the depth of his rage, or the breadth of his impotence at feeling so helpless.” He paused for a moment. “You kept him from you for a long time. Do not expect him to share everything he feels, not just yet. He wants to, but he still fears you might push him away.”

  Me push him away? I wanted to ask Tomas why he would think I’d do such a thing, but instead I said, “I’m not that naïve, Tomas. I mean, no one ever tells everything, do they?”

  “Don’t they?” He sounded surprised at my admission, and my cheeks flushed unexpectedly. I opened my mouth to explain, but the sentinel held up a hand. “Nay, lass, ’tis not my place to judge. I trust your reasons for keeping silent are guided by the love you bear for Gabriel, and that is reason enough for me.”

  I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but as if sensing I might give in to the urge, Tomas picked up our empty coffee mugs and got to his feet, giving the urge time to pass.

  “Go visit your friend,” he suggested as he rinsed our cups at the sink. “She and the bairn have been home for a few days. I daresay she’d welcome a visit.”

  “You think I should?” The truth was, I was dying to see Laycee and Baby Jenna, but not knowing much about new mothers with new babies, I didn’t want to intrude or upset anyone’s schedule.

  Tomas smiled at me—an occurrence so rare I almost fell off my chair. “Dinna fash yourself, lass. Gabriel will return soon enough, just nae tonight.”

  Awww, fuck it! I didn’t give him a hug, but I did kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Tomas, for everything.”

  I left him blushing with embarrassment and making odd harrumphing noises to himself.

  * * *

  “Rowan, you can’t do this to me!”

  I wasn’t used to being scolded by anyone, let alone Laycee, at least not when I was standing on what used to be my front porch in the middle of the afternoon before I’d even had a chance to come inside and put my purse down. I took a good long look at my best friend. She was wearing flip-flops, yoga pants, and a T-shirt that was decorated with a weird stain on the left shoulder. Her hair was pulled up in an untidy knot on top of her head and secured with a large clip. She wore no makeup, not even lip gloss, and looked like she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since coming home from the hospital.

  “What are you talking about?” What had I done?

  The sudden eruption of tears was frightening. I pulled her into my arms, rubbing her back and making what I hoped were soothing, shushing sounds until the crying jag had run its course and turned into wet-sounding snuffles. It also gave me time to identify the stain on her T-shirt as spit-up baby formula.

  “Goddamn hormones!” Laycee grumbled, pulling out of my arms and looking a little embarrassed. “I swear to God I’m never getting pregnant again.”

  Yeah, like I’m so going to believe that one. Wanna bet she’ll be pregnant again by Christmas?

  Laycee turned around and stomped off down the hall, headed for the kitchen. I followed, mystified by her reaction to seeing me, and with no idea what she was talking about. I hadn’t seen her since that night in the hospital . . . so what had I done? I set my purse down on the kitchen table as Laycee unrolled a length of tissue from a roll of toilet paper and used it to blow her nose. “The way I’m crying, this is more economical,” she explained, waving the roll at me before putting it on the counter.

  “Where’s Jenna?” I asked, looking around and thinking it was funny how all the dramas in my life seem to center around this one particular room.

  “Taking a nap—thank you, Jesus.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Laycee didn’t seem to be in any hurry to explain her doorstep explosion, but maybe if I offered to do something simple, like make coffee, she’d settle down and tell me.

  A light shone in her eyes, and she grabbed my hand. “Yeah,” she said, dragging me toward the living room. “You can deal with this.”

  “Wow, what did you do? Have another baby shower?”

  I didn’t know you were supposed to have an after-the-baby-gets-here shower as well. I satisfied my inner bitch by letting her know I was equally mystified.

  There was an odd, maniacal gleam in Laycee’s china-doll blue eyes, and I told myself she wasn’t the only one who would be glad when her hormones stopped fluctuating.

  I glanced around the living room, which now looked more like the overflow stockroom of a Babies-R-Us store. One corner was filled with stacked boxes of disposable diapers, while a chair was camouflaged by a multitude of receiving blankets. A half dozen crib sets lay on the floor still in their zippered cellophane bags, and I counted two car seats, one stroller, something called a diaper genie (I didn’t want to ask), and two—no, make that three—plastic newborn baby baths. The sofa had become a display piece for clothing. All of it girly, all of it frilled, beribboned, and fit to be worn from newborn to size twelve months.

  Well, at least someone was thinking ahead.

  The only thing I didn’t see was a crib or bassinet, but the five-foot-tall stuffed giraffe glaring woefully at me from between the fireplace and DVD cabinet more than made up for it.

  “All this,” Laycee said with a game show hostess wave of her hand, “is you, Rowan Marie Harper.”

  I stared at her, certain I had misheard. “What? No! You’re kidding, right?” The look on her face said not just no, but hell no. “But . . . how?”

&
nbsp; “How? Are you saying you didn’t send any of this? Oh my God! Rowan, did someone hack your credit card?” She grabbed my hands as concern replaced her exasperation.

  “No, of course not,” I gave the giraffe a look of my own. “I know I got you all this stuff, I recognize some of it, but I just don’t remember getting you so much.”

  “So you did send this?” Laycee asked, needing confirmation.

  I nodded. “I must have.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  I shrugged. “Oh, I remember all right . . . I guess I just got carried away.”

  “You think?”

  I certainly wasn’t about to admit that alcohol might have played a part in my decision-making process, or that buying via the internet didn’t really feel like shopping, or that it was during one of my not-so-good nights with Gabriel gone.

  Laycee moved a pile of cute onesies from the arm of the sofa and sat down. “So you’re saying this is all you, and none of it’s from Eye Candy?”

  I nodded. “Nope. Gabriel’s been out of town for a couple of weeks.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “If you want, we can send it all back, or give it away?” I picked up a carton of baby wipes. “Know anyone who could use these?”

  “You would do that? Give it all away?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I don’t think it can be returned once it’s out of the original packaging, do you?”

  Laycee gave me an oddly exasperated look. “I can contact the hospital. They have a program for mothers who need help.”

  “That’s settled then. Keep anything you want and give the rest to the hospital.”

  “Ro . . .” A troubled frown marred her brow. “How much did you spend on all this?”

  “Umm, I’m not sure. Not exactly.”

  It was true. I had no idea how much I’d splurged on my six-hour spending spree, hitting every conceivable website I could think of that dealt with babies. I do know that by the time I was done, I still hadn’t maxed out my credit card.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Laycee gave me a long, hard look. “You lied to me.”

  “I did not—I’ve never lied to you!” I protested hotly.

  “Yeah, you did. You said that Eye Candy’s money wouldn’t change you.” She looked pointedly around the room. “I hate to break it to you, girlfriend, but you lied.”

  “Yeah, well having a credit card with a limit that’s six figures is kind of surreal.” Her mouth dropped open, and I decided not to tell her about the Palladium card Gabriel had originally wanted to give me. At least I’d had the good sense to refuse that one.

  “Just promise me the next time you get the urge to go on a spending spree, you’ll call me first.”

  “Why? So you can talk me out of it?”

  “Hell no—so I can tell you what I need!”

  We both laughed, but I did give her my word not to be so financially reckless in the future.

  “How mad is Jake about all this?” I asked when we were done chuckling.

  “Well, he doesn’t want people to think he can’t provide for his own child.” I winced. I could understand how that might emasculate him. “But I think he’ll forgive you when I tell him this was all you. He was worried about how to refuse a gift—any gift—that came from Eye Candy.”

  “So is that why you asked if it was from him too?”

  Now it was her turn to look guilty. “I wasn’t sure if, well, if this was because of what I’d asked him to do.”

  Now I understood. Laycee had naturally been concerned there was a possibility Gabriel’s offer of protection came with strings attached. The same sort of strings that I had assumed might be attached. I told her about Gabriel’s decision not to be an active participant in Jenna’s life, something that pleased Laycee, but saddened me.

  Jenna would never know the wonderful gift Gabriel had given her, and he would never experience the wonder of watching a child grow up. Still, sensing Laycee’s relief, I knew I should not try to reverse this decision. Of course I couldn’t guarantee we wouldn’t spoil Jenna on her birthday and Christmas, but that would probably be more my doing.

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “He told me you still don’t have to invite him in.”

  “Ah, I was wondering about that.” She reached for a stack of receiving blankets and began to fold them into a neat pile. I could already tell she was mentally selecting which items she would keep and those she would give away. “So where’s he gone?”

  “Who?”

  “Eye Candy, of course. You said he was out of town.”

  “Oh, he’s away on business. Paris, I think.” Laycee was right. I did lie to her. I was doing it now, and it was amazing how easily the words rolled off my tongue.

  “You don’t know? You haven’t spoken to him?” Her problems-in-paradise radar was all plugged in and rarin’ to go.

  I shook my head. “Not recently.”

  “When’s he coming home?”

  “Soon.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes suddenly took on an unnatural sparkle.

  “Are you going to start crying again?” I asked worriedly.

  Yes! Please make that a yes so we don’t have to answer any awkward questions about an AWOL boyfriend.

  “Probably.” Her smile was definitely wobbly as she pointed to her chest. “If I’m not crying, then I’m leaking. Either way I’m losing liquid—oh, but thanks for the breast pump. That’s been a godsend.”

  Breast pump? I didn’t remember ordering a breast pump, but the sound of Jenna wailing put a stop to any further conversation about my spending habits, missing boyfriend, or lactating mothers. I was happy to spend the next few hours holding the most perfectly beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  Chapter 29

  “Would you like me to contact the realtor?” Gabriel asked two nights later when he returned.

  I was torn between wanting to throw myself in his arms and needing to haul off and smack him. “Do you mean that bitch who flirted with you? The one with the pretentious name?” I said instead, acting as if he’d only been gone half an hour instead of nearly three weeks. Keeping my eyes downcast, I continued with my task of pulling weeds from around the planter of evening primroses and night gladioli.

  “Well, I’m sure we can find someone else to flirt with me, if you prefer. I had no idea it was that important to you.”

  Unable to help myself, I looked up at him and saw the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh. “Oh, you enjoyed her flirting, did you?”

  “Not particularly, but I did find your method of putting her in her place more than pleasurable.”

  I was suddenly back in the bathroom, feeling the cold tile against my ass. “You never did give me back my panties.” There was a sudden huskiness to my voice.

  “No, I didn’t, did I?”

  And apparently he’s not going to.

  I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the planter. The lack of a real garden was, as far as I could see, the only downside to living in the penthouse, a fact I felt more acutely after my recent visit with Laycee. But Gabriel had more than made up for it by having a number of raised wooden flower beds and planters installed on the terrace. All were filled with night-blooming flowers, and the scent of Casablanca lilies was particularly fragrant in the night air.

  “Why do you need a realtor?” I asked, returning to his original question. “Are you going to make me give back the apartment?” I was surprised by how proprietary I felt. Gabriel had put the apartment in my name, but since my abortive attempt to move out, I hadn’t trusted myself to go there. I had, however, succumbed to the temptation of internet shopping again by ordering some new furniture and draperies, being a little more circumspect in my spending this time. As well as stone-cold sober.

  “The apartment is yours, and I would never take that from you.” He walked to the far wall of the building, where pink and white moon flowers climbed a supporting trellis. His fingers curled gently around one of the massive blooms, and
I swear the damn thing shivered in delight at his touch. “I just thought perhaps you might want to live somewhere other than here.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t want you to be reminded of what happened whenever you go into the living room.”

  “The K Incident,” as I thought of it, complete with the appropriate capitalization and quotation marks, was already old news as far as I was concerned. But I wasn’t an Original Vampire who’d seen his girl being snacked on by another Original Vampire.

  I brushed the dirt from my hands and walked over to him, taking his chin in my fingers. “Kartel took my blood.” I didn’t miss the flinch when I said his name. “But I will not allow him to take anything else from me. Especially not the home I share with you. I like living here.”

  “But if we had a house, you could have a real garden.”

  “Yes, I could, and I’d have a lot more weeds to pull!” It was nice to hear the low rumble of his laugh. “Besides, you can’t beat the view.” Whenever possible I tried to be sure I caught the sun coming up over the city before going to bed for the day. The skyline never looked more lovely than when it was bathed in a warm golden glow. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t like a house one day,” I told him quietly, “just not right now.”

  “You know we already have a half dozen. In other countries.”

  “Well, one of these days you’re going to have to let me see them. Each and every one.”

  Turning his face into my hand, Gabriel kissed my palm. His lips tickled, and I giggled at the sensation. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured as his lips moved to my neck and began making up for lost time.

  “I missed you too,” I murmured, putting my arms around him. “Where have you been?”

  I paused, waiting for him to give me a rehearsed excuse, not because he was hiding anything from me, but more as a way of protecting me from things I might not be ready to know about. He surprised me by saying, “I’ve been following Kartel.”

  “Because of what he did to me?”

  “Yes, but also because I want to know what he’s up to.”

  “You don’t trust him, do you?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”