Redemption (The Penton Vampire Legacy)

by Susannah Sandlin

  “Mill village burned,” Tim said. He and Mark had followed her into the room. “Guy on the table is Eric. Jerry’s on the stool, there.” Jerry, an older man with a bit of a beer overhang, nodded at her.

  The exam room was crowded, but Krys decided to let everyone stay. Mark had to play watchdog, and Tim could tell her what she needed to know. She took pulses, listened to lungs, treated cuts, and wrapped a wrenched knee while she listened. Luckily no one had suffered burns.

  “One of the floors of the older houses caved while they were inside. It took us a while to get the fire under control and pull ’em out.” Krys glanced up and noticed Tim had been talking more to Mark than to her.

  “Nobody else was inside?” Mark asked.

  “Nope. The houses were all empty.” Tim sounded disappointed.

  Two hours later Krys relaxed in the waiting area with Melissa while Mark paced the hallways. The two guys had suffered minor smoke inhalation and she’d sent them home with instructions to take it easy for a day or two. Eric had been a nice, almost shy guy while Jerry was a bombastic know-it-all. Krys had been glad to see him leave. To hear him tell it, he’d handled the mill village burning almost single-handedly, and would wipe out the bad vampires in a heartbeat if Aidan would just give him the go-ahead.

  Krys wasn’t volunteering to go back to her dungeon. Mark would have to force her, and so far he hadn’t mentioned it. She studied him as he looked out the front window, hands in his jeans pockets, the gun out of sight under his jacket. Surely the whole town couldn’t be full of people who’d been addicts, who fed vampires out of some warped sense of obligation. What was somebody like Jerry Know-It-All doing here?

  Melissa broke the silence. “Want me to run that last blood work? I can come back tonight and do it when I bring your dinner.”

  “It can wait till tomorrow—the guys weren’t hurt that badly and their oxygen levels were OK.” Krys shifted her gaze from Mark to Melissa. “I’m sorry. Taking those trays down to the suites three times a day must get old.”

  What the hell was she apologizing for? Idiot. Make Aidan apologize.

  Melissa laughed. “I volunteered. I had hoped...” She paused and looked back at Mark, who remained standing with his back to them.

  “You hoped what?”

  Melissa shrugged. “I guess it sounds stupid, given the way you came here, but I hoped we might become friends.”

  Friends. Krys hadn’t had many of those, not close ones. She hadn’t been allowed to have friends over as a kid, or to visit other children’s houses. Finally they had quit asking. For a flash she wished Melissa’s wish could come true. “Well, we can be friends even though I’m only here temporarily.” She laughed. “I always thought you put the flowers on the tray till I saw Aidan’s greenhouse.”

  Melissa broke into a grin. “He showed it to you? Be honored—he doesn’t let just anybody in there. Afraid they’ll break a leaf or something.”

  A flush of heat gathered in her gut at the memory of that night—they’d done a lot more than see the greenhouse. She didn’t regret it, even though she knew she should.

  “Do you want to go back downstairs?” Mark had made his way to the waiting area and stood in front of them. Melissa got up, put her arms around his waist, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his chin. Krys envied their easy affection.

  “You go on home, honey,” Melissa said. “Aidan will be here in a few minutes anyway. Krys and I can get better acquainted. It’ll be fine.”

  He kissed her again, and then headed back to his spot by the door. “Nice try, but I’ll hang out here a while longer.”

  “Sorry,” Melissa told Krys, returning to the adjoining seat. “He’s cautious. It’s what Aidan pays him for.”

  Krys rolled down the sleeves of her brown sweater. The waiting room had to be at least ten degrees colder than the exam rooms. “It’s OK. I know what Aidan pays him for,” she said. “I know he’s a...”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say familiar. It sounded too stupid. “I know you’re both blood donors.”

  Melissa gave her a steady look and leaned back in her chair. “I can tell by your voice you don’t approve. But don’t judge what you don’t understand. I know how it must look, but you’re wrong.”

  Krys hated to admit how much the blood thing bothered her. She’d managed to ignore it when she was with Aidan, but even he’d told her he wasn’t just a man with fangs. “Explain it to me. I don’t understand why you stay if you’re really given the choice of leaving.” She swiveled sideways in her chair, facing Melissa. “Mark told me about his background. I mean, the drugs and all. I get it that Aidan helped him, but letting one of them...” She waved her hand in the air, not sure what to say. Suck your blood sounded too Bela Lugosi.

  “Feed?” Melissa said, laughing. “You can say it. Mark’s a substitute feeder, just when he’s needed. But I’m Aidan’s familiar. Think of it this way—he has to feed to stay alive, just like the rest of us. Just a different diet, that’s all.”

  She looked at the floor, brows drawn together. “How to explain...I care about Aidan and want to do that for him, and it’s pleasurable for me. In return, Mark and I have good jobs, good lives. We don’t have to worry about money or insurance or anything except living our lives and being happy.”

  “But what about kids? Don’t you and Mark want children?”

  “Mel can’t have children.” Krys jumped at the deep voice that seemed to come out of nowhere, and her heart rate kicked up a gear. Aidan stood behind her, wearing a black sweater that made him look downright ethereal. His eyes were an icier shade of blue than usual. “But if she and Mark decide they want to adopt a child and move somewhere else, I wouldn’t stop them. I’d really miss them, though.”

  “We don’t want to go anywhere.” Melissa smiled at him. “And you look like you need some breakfast.”

  Krys shook her head. She understood the attraction to this place, the sense of belonging, maybe even the feeling of being needed. But to trade your freedom for security, to wonder always if you were only here because your blood had the right components or you’d been brainwashed...

  “Earth to Krys.”

  She blinked at Melissa.

  “Come on, I want you to see something.”

  Krys frowned and followed Melissa out of the waiting area and down the hallway to a room she hadn’t noticed on her clinic tour. It was the size of an exam room, but instead of the steel table and small writing desk and cabinet, there was an overstuffed leather love seat, an armchair, a couple of fluffy rugs. It looked more like a small living room.

  “What is it?”

  Aidan had followed them into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat on the love seat next to Melissa. He motioned Krys toward the facing chair. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, but Mel does, so I’ll play along.” His expression was indecipherable, but he’d tensed his shoulders and was drumming his fingers on the arm of the love seat. Humanlike fidgeting he didn’t seem to be aware of.

  With her eyes on Krys, Melissa pushed up the right sleeve of her scrubs, and then held her arm out in front of Aidan. He gripped her wrist loosely with one hand and placed the other at her elbow.

  Oh. My. God. He’s going to... “Oh no,” Krys said, standing. “I don’t want to watch this.”

  “Sit down.” Melissa’s sharp voice and defiant expression stopped her. “If you’re going to judge us, at least see what you’re judging.”

  Krys wrapped her arms around her middle and looked at Melissa, who’d been nothing but kind to her, and who seemed to think this was important. She slowly lowered herself back into the chair.

  Aidan watched the exchange in silence, still holding Melissa’s arm. Now he raised it to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist, his eyes on Krys.

  He’s so damned beautiful. She chastised herself for the thought as he closed his eyes, slowly running his lips from Melissa’s wrist to the bend in her arm. There, over the big vein, he licked once and sank his fangs
into the delicate skin.

  Melissa flinched, then relaxed against Aidan’s shoulder as he pulled at her arm. Was he drawing blood through the fangs or just sucking on the wounds they’d made? Krys thought the latter.

  Suddenly, his eyes opened to watch her. As he continued to feed, his gaze softened and his irises deepened from arctic ice to a clear, rich blue. Melissa leaned into his shoulder and watched her as well, a lazy smile on her face.

  That should be me. Krys took a gulp of air and clutched the arms of the chair. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to tell him to stop. She should be afraid or grossed out, damn it, but she wasn’t. She was jealous. She wanted to be the one who brought that look to his face. She also wanted to jerk those thoughts out of her head like so many strains of bacteria, throw them on a slide, and figure out where they came from. Of all the things she could be feeling now, jealousy was the most wrongheaded.

  It seemed like forever before Aidan withdrew, pulling Melissa into a hug. She leaned against his shoulder for a few moments and he relaxed against the back of the loveseat, both of them looking satiated. What had Melissa gotten out of it? It was one of the most sensual things Krys had ever seen, but would it be the same if he fed from her? And didn’t Mark resent Melissa’s experiencing this kind of intimacy with another man?

  “Well, you haven’t run screaming from the room.” Aidan watched her from beneath lowered lids. His voice sounded rougher and his skin had lost its pallor.

  They continued to look at each other, him silent and calm, her mind swirling. How could she want that to be her? Why had he never tried to feed from her? Did he not want her?

  “Oh boy, I feel like a third wheel,” Melissa laughed, looking from Aidan to Krys and back. She stretched and stood, pulling the sleeve of her scrubs down and heading for the door. “I’ll call the two guys who were hurt tonight, just to see if they’re OK.”

  She turned back to Krys, who couldn’t seem to find her tongue. “I’ll find you if they seem to be having any problems.”

  Krys nodded, still mute.

  Aidan continued to study Krys as Melissa’s footsteps faded. She’d surprised him by sitting there quietly and watching him feed, but then again, the woman constantly surprised him. He’d felt the flare of heat between them, too. Did that mean she’d let him feed from her? He shifted in his seat. Just the idea of it made him hard, and he ached to be inside her wet heat again. To claim her.

  But he had to do this right. He had to get a grip, keep his distance, and give her some space.

  “You hungry?” he asked on impulse. Yeah, that’s keeping your distance.

  Krys’s eyes widened, and he chuckled.

  “Don’t worry. I was thinking about something like barbecue.”

  She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I thought you...God, how silly. You mean I can actually go somewhere besides my little cell and eat?”

  She hadn’t said it in a sarcastic way, which made it sting all the more. But as long as he kept her in a locked basement, calling it a suite was like putting lipstick on a pig, as Mirren would say. You could doll it up, but it was still a pig.

  He got to his feet. “Let’s go to dinner, then.”

  “But you don’t eat, do you? Food, I mean?” She looked sexy as hell when she was trying to figure him out, her dark eyes warm, a tiny wrinkle of a frown between her brows that sent an ache straight through him.

  “I don’t eat solid food anymore, but I can watch you eat and have a glass of wine. I do drink occasionally.” He paused for a couple of beats. “I prefer red wine, of course.”

  Krys began laughing. The sound was full-throated, strong, and infectious. Unafraid.

  He inhaled the scent of her hair, the rhythm of her heartbeat, the heat of her.

  She took his outstretched hand and let him pull her from the chair, but she eased her hand away as they reentered the hospital corridor.

  Mark was leaning on the front counter talking to Melissa, and they turned as Aidan and Krys approached.

  Mark cocked an eyebrow. “Ready for a report on the fire, boss?”

  “I got the highlights from Will already. We’re going down to Clyde’s. Meet the lieutenants at Mirren’s about three and we’ll strategize.” He narrowed his eyes at Mark, daring him to comment.

  Mark grinned. “You kids have fun.”

  Aidan shook his head as he held the front door open for Krys and she walked outside ahead of him. “Mark’s a funny guy.”

  He’d walked past her and taken the first two steps before realizing that she wasn’t following. She remained just outside the clinic door with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, the way she’d done when she finally hit fresh air the night before.

  He wanted to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her, and tell her he’d take her home, that he was sorry he’d kept her cooped up. But the fire today showed once again how much his people needed her, and he didn’t trust her to stay on her own. She was too confused about how she felt. He was pretty damned confused himself.

  Aidan and Krys entered Clyde’s shortly after six, prime dining hour for Penton’s humans. Most tables were full. The smell of smoked meats hit them in a wave at the door, and Krys groaned in appreciation. He could still enjoy the aroma, himself: the smoky richness of the charred pork, the vinegar-laced tang of the barbecue sauce, the onions. But the undercurrents of blood and pheromones were even more enticing. And riding over it all, the delicate floral scent of the woman beside him.

  The clatter of the crowd dimmed when they entered. Aidan grimaced. Penton’s busybodies would be getting enough fodder to keep them buzzing for days.

  Behind the grill, up to his neck in pork ribs, sauce, and smoke, even old Clyde—one of the few remaining original Penton residents, who’d been surprisingly circumspect about the existence of vampires—paused to give Krys a careful once-over.

  She smoothed her hair, tugged on the hem of her sweater, turned an enticing shade of pink.

  “They just want a look at you,” he murmured as they crossed the dining room to claim a table against the far wall. “We don’t get that many new people here.”

  Red oilcloth topped the random scattering of wooden tables. Most seated four or eight but Aidan picked one of the two-seaters along the dark-paneled wall. Small punched-tin containers on each table held votives that gave the room an intimate ambience.

  “They aren’t looking at me because I’m the new doctor,” Krys hissed, jerking out a chair and sitting down even as he reached to pull it out for her. “They’re looking at me because I came in here with you, their...”

  She ran out of words and frowned at him as he sat opposite her. “What do they call you? Mayor? King? Dictator? Vampire Lord? Most eligible bachelor?” She looked part amused, part exasperated, a smile turning up one corner of her mouth.

  Aidan laughed, pulled a menu from its spot behind the napkin holder, and handed it to her. “I probably don’t want to know what they call me. Mirren and I are the strongest here, although not the oldest. A vampire community is called a scathe, and I’m the master of the scathe. But as to what the people call me?” He shrugged. “I’m listed as mayor in the official directories and any kind of paperwork that has to be filed with the state. Guess that works as well as anything.”

  A plump young woman with bright red hair and a face full of freckles bounded up with a small notepad. “Hi, Mr. Murphy,” she said, green eyes shiny. “And you’re Dr. Harris? Everyone’s been wondering when we’d get to meet you. Welcome to Penton.”

  Krys nodded, smiling. No harm in letting them think she’d come here on her own.

  Aidan took over the introductions. “Krys, this is Kathleen. She’s been in Penton, what, about six months now?”

  The girl beamed. “Wow, I mean, I can’t believe you remember me.”

  “Of course I do.” He made a point to know everyone, or at least to which of his scathe members each human was bonded or related. He remembered Kathleen because, at twenty-one, she was at t
he cusp of what he considered too young to join the community, and he was keeping an eye on how well she assimilated. Her older sister was the mate of a scathe member, however, and they had made a case to bring her with them to Penton. She’d been hanging with a bad crowd and headed for trouble, and there were no other family members.

  Aidan ordered a glass of whiskey from Kathleen and wished she weren’t acting so damned giddy. It made him feel like a jerk—or a mob boss.

  Krys picked out a beer and a plate of chopped pork barbecue. “Does it bother you to be around food?” she asked. “It smells amazing in here, and you can’t have any. Or can you?”

  He smiled. “No, our systems won’t tolerate solid food, but the smells don’t bother me anymore,” he said. “A lot of my kind can’t tolerate them, but those of us who’ve chosen to live among humans instead of isolated in our own society still enjoy them. And when we feed, we get a hint of whatever our fam has eaten.”

  Kathleen brought their drinks, and Krys took a sip of her beer. “You said you and Mirren were the strongest but not the oldest. How old are you? I asked the man who came by early this morning but he never answered me.”

  Bloody hell. Aidan returned his glass to the table with a thump. “What man?”

  “Lorenzo something? He said he was with the council...no, that wasn’t it. Tribunal.” Krys opened her mouth to say something else but seemed to change her mind. She studiously began peeling the label off her bottle of Corona.

  She was hiding something. Aidan’s skin crawled at the thought of Renz alone with her.

  He watched her a few seconds. “What aren’t you telling me? Did he touch you?”

  She glanced up at him quickly. “He didn’t hurt me. He said he might be able to explain better why you brought me here.”

  Damn it. He should have considered this possibility and stuck Renz somewhere else, but, honestly, he hadn’t expected Renz to have much interest in a human. Aidan clenched his jaw. “What did he say?”