I'm the Vampire, That's Why
Page 19
Lor's gaze filled with sorrow. "Sharon had been meeting me there every night. I would feed and we would talk for a while. She was supposed to be gone before you and Patrick arrived."
"But the Wraiths got you instead." I chewed on my lower lip as I considered the silver cuffs on Lorćan's wrists. They looked like the ones Patrick had worn the first night I'd woken up sucking on his thigh. My guess was that it was the spells on the cuffs keeping Lor bound.
"Did Ron's vicious pet kill Sharon?"
"I don't know." He grimaced. "They got to me before I had a chance to warn her. This incredibly painful screeching inside my brain nearly made me go mad. Then I was spirited away and locked up here."
"How long have you been cured?" I asked.
"Tonight. I awoke as I am now."
"I'm sure it'll give Stan a real hard-on to figure out why." I looked around the cavern. "He thinks the Wraiths are into some kind of vampire biological warfare."
"Now, why would we poison our own kind?" Ron said as he appeared right next to me. I yelped and stumbled backward.
He laughed, his black eyes flashing. Today's outfit was the ol' black pants, shoes, coat combo, but the silk shirt was emerald green.
"God, you suck!" I tried to beat back the fear fluttering in my belly. This guy scared me. He had no compunction about killing humans, he wanted to destroy other vampires, and he wanted to rule over the world. "My kids better be safe, buster. If you even look at them wrong, I'll gut you."
"Tsk. Tsk. Such melodrama!"
"We'll see how melodramatic you think it is when I put my swords in your woobies." I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue and stamp my feet. I was an adult, after all. "Just let us go already!"
"Of course! It wasn't like I planned to keep you as prisoners or anything." His thin lips curved into an insincere smile. "Tell you what, I'll make a deal. You fight one of my chosen warriors. If you win, I'll let you and Lor go."
I looked at him, my mouth gaping. "You're kidding."
"Yes," he said. "Well, I was kidding about the letting you go part. I fully intend to entertain myself by watching someone else kick your ass."
Before I had time to utter something witty and cutting, I found myself standing in the center of a large well-lit cavern. Vampires, all of whom favored black clothing, ringed the cavern. Some sat, some stood, but all eyes were on me and Ron. He grinned at me and I really wanted to punch him in the mouth.
"We have a guest," said Ron. He grabbed my right hand and held it up. The silver fede ring glittered in the flickering torchlight. "The prophesied soul mate of your favorite vampire, Patrick O'Halloran."
Hisses and boos ricocheted off the uneven walls. The atmosphere was heavy with malicious anticipation. I had never felt such ill will directed toward me. The Wraiths blanketed me with their spite, their glee at my probable demise.
Patrick? Pick up the damned mental phone!
"Oh, stop," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "He can't hear you. If it's any solace, he's frantically searching for you, okay?"
"You have a weird idea about how to comfort people," I said, pulling my wrist out of his grasp.
"We're not people," said Ron. "Vampires are better than people."
"Right. Which is why you're trying to kill your own kind."
"Wraiths are better than most vampires. We understand nature. We accept the true pecking order. Humans represent the ultimate dinner-and-a-show concept. First, you'll entertain me…" He licked his fangs, his eyes glowing red. "Then I'll dine on you."
"Hey, Sherlock. I'm not a human."
"Human. Turn-blood. Whatever." He shrugged in dismissal. Then he walked a circle, holding his hands up to quiet the still-grumbling crowd. "Who will fight our heroine? Who will risk death at the hands of this fierce warrior?"
Laughter echoed. Okay, so I wasn't Xena, Warrior Princess, but I could fight. Theoretically. The real question, though, was could I win?
"I'll take the chance," said a purring woman's voice.
"Well, there's a surprise," I muttered as Nara sashayed around the counter. Her hair had been pulled into a fat ponytail. She wore black leather pants, a black bustier, and black boots with three-inch heels. "Hello, bitch."
"Oh, I love charades!" I cocked a hip, my hands reaching for the swords that had been taken from me. "Let me guess. Cat Woman on a bad-hair day. No? A dominatrix with a bad fashion sense?"
"Shut up." She held up her hands and the Ruadan swords sparkled into her fists. "I've been waiting for this opportunity."
"Isn't it interesting that every time the swords go missing, you seem to find them?" I asked in a bored tone. Inside, I was freaking the hell out. I looked at Ron. "I'd like my swords back, please. She can get her own."
"Technically, she had them first."
"Fine. Then give me another weapon."
Ron considered me, a well-manicured finger tapping his chin. Then he smiled maliciously. "Nah."
He popped out of the circle. I tracked him to the right as he sat down in a big, black chair. Jerk.
Nara banged the swords together; The metal-on-metal noise made me flinch. I stepped back, my hands tightening. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. "This is going to be so much fun!"
She lunged toward me, swords extended, cackling when I leapt backward and crossed my arms up in front of me.
She charged—this time deadly intent on attacking me.
I leapt over her, which really pissed her off. So, Ron had allowed me to fly again. And that meant there was probably no way for me to escape the cavern. He wasn't dumb enough to unbind my abilities if he wasn't absolutely sure he could control my use of them.
Nara spun and thrust one sword at my thigh. The blade glanced off my leg; blood welled across the gash. The Wraiths cheered as Nara raised the swords above her head, grinning in triumph. While she was acting like a dumb-ass, I kicked her in the stomach.
She flew backward, landing in a heap. But the swords remained in her hands. Damn. Flipping onto her feet, her vamp speed put her right in my face. The swords nicked my sides, but I bounced away. I was scared. Really scared. But the training Patrick had put into my brain was working. I didn't have to think. I was reacting to her moves. Yeah, she was getting me here and there, but she was working for my death.
She swiped at me again and again, but I fended her off. She kept grinning, kept clicking the swords together in attempts to intimidate me.
And it was working, let me tell you.
Around her neck glittered a silver chain. As she poked at me again, the chain swung free and revealed Dairine's coin.
Then, a cold mist began to fill up the cavern. The Wraiths murmured their confusion, straightening away from the walls, and looking around.
The fog thickened and the temperature dropped.
"Wraiths!" screamed Ron. "Prepare for battle!"
As everyone scrambled to what I assumed were Wraith attack positions, Nara attempted to ram both blades in my stomach. I whirled away, but not soon enough to prevent two deep gashes. Blood poured from the wounds. She was fast, really fast. If I had been human, I would've been dead.
She went for another round of Stab Jessica In The Stomach. I jumped up and over her. I landed behind her and grabbed her ponytail. She screamed, trying to jerk away and kick at me. I looped my finger around the chain and pulled it off her neck.
Unfortunately, I also let her hair go and she spun around, jabbing the swords into my shoulders. Pain exploded, but I scurried back, shoving my prize into the front pocket of my shorts.
Even with all the mental mojo Patrick had given me and all my "basic package" vampire skills, I wasn't doing too well in this fight.
It kinda pissed me off to realize I was losing. But that anger was nothing compared to, you know, all the terror pumping through me.
Chaos reigned as Wraiths scrambled to either escape or prepare to fight. So far, though, there was no one to fight. Then, as Nara tried again to skewer me, I felt a strange tingling sensation. I saw Nara's eyes widen
, her mouth stretching as she let out a furious shriek.
Together, we sparkled out of sight.
Chapter 23
Nara and I reappeared in the cemetery. I noted, in major mondo relief, that we were surrounded by a whole lot of vampires I recognized. Somehow, some way, the Consortium had found and rescued me.
"Jessica!" Patrick strode toward me, his graceful. movements and stony expression belying the rage pulsing in his silver eyes. "A thaisce." He gathered me into his arms and kissed me until I nearly puddled at his feet. At least he wasn't mad at me for being all stupid and getting caught by Ron. And that meant Nara was the recipient of his wrath. Maybe it made me a bitch (and haven't we established that fact already?), but I was a tad gleeful Nara was gonna get in trouble. When he finally freed my mouth, I asked, "The kids?"
"They are safe, love." He let me go, not even sparing a glance at the heaving-in-outrage, blade-wielding, pissed-off Nara a couple of feet behind me. Instead, he turned to François, who was one of the ten or so vampires circling us. "Do it."
All the vampires broke off from the group and pointed their hands, palms out, toward the forest. No… toward the cave where the Wraiths were hiding out.
The wounds Nara had inflicted on me during our battle were still bleeding. I wasn't sure why the vampire healing thing hadn't kicked in, but I felt weak. "What are they doing?" I asked.
"Destroying the Wraiths," said Patrick.
"But Lor is in there!"
"Don't worry, love. We got him out, too. He's at the medical RV with Stan."
The earth rumbled beneath our feet. I grabbed on to Patrick's arm to steady myself as the low rumble turned into a huge roar. In the distance, a gold light mushroomed into the sky. I watched in awe as trees and dirt sprayed upward.
Then, there was a great whomp. The light and flying debris twirled downward. I realized that the cavern had collapsed. I could only hope that Ron had been crushed by a really, really big rock. Asshole.
Patrick strode to Nara, stopping a foot away from her. "Jessica is mo chroí."
"You don't love her," she screeched. "You haven't even fucked her yet."
Patrick was unmoved by her temper tantrum; he was as cold and distant as a mountain peak. I followed his lead and looked at her icily, as if she were dirt clinging to my feet. Inside, I was seething. Seething because she'd been bound to Patrick for a hundred years. Seething because she was crude and horrible and mean. Seething because she had inflicted so much turmoil and anguish on Patrick.
"You betrayed the Consortium. You betrayed those who called you friend!"
She shook her head, her shoulders heaving with dry tears. "My love is for you, Padriag. I care for nothing, for no one, the way I care for you. And it is her that has ruined all that I've worked for!"
"Jessica is my other half. I love her."
I didn't have time to relish Patrick's admission of love. Nara went blind with her hatred. Before I could blink, I felt the two sharp blades crossed against my throat.
"Ouch," I said.
She squeezed until the edges pierced my skin. "You do not deserve him."
The little swords pressed and the cuts deepened. Ever get a paper cut? Well, it hurt a little like that—except a thousand times worse. My wounds were still bleeding and I had gone from feeling weak to feeling faint. So, I stood there like a schlub and let pixie-girl try to scissor off my head.
"Nara," said Patrick calmly. "Drop the swords."
"If she dies, you will see me again. Love me again. You will know Dairine is well and truly dead."
"Jessica is not Dairine."
Nara blinked up at him, without easing up the grip she had on my neck. She had the strength and the motivation to just—clip—and I would be headless.
"I loved the mother of my children, Nara. I grieve the loss of my family every day. But Dairine chose the Light."
"But—but why do you love her?" Nara cried. "Because she wears that stupid ring?"
"No, I'm really good in bed," I managed through chattering teeth. My vision was graying, but I stayed on my feet.
"Shut up, bitch." She pushed forward and reminded me that my head was only attached because of her goodwill.
"Put away the swords, Nara. You must face punishment for your misdeeds. And you must swear to me you will never seek to harm Jessica or her family."
"No."
I figured out her decision a split second before I felt the pressure of the blades bite into my skin. Oh God!
Nara flew backward, the knives spinning across the dewy grass. She skidded onto her ass, her legs flying up like a marionette's.
I fell to my knees, clutching my throat. Blood dripped between my fingers.
Patrick, why haven't I healed? I thought instant health was part of the basic vampire package.
The wounds caused by the Ruadan swords include sidhe magic. They will not heal… at least not without some help.
Gently, Patrick pried my hands off my neck and put his own on the wounds. He whispered, "Leigheas."
Tingling warmth wove around my entire body. Within seconds, the deep cuts on my neck, the gashes in my stomach, and all the other scratches had healed.
"Thanks," I said.
He kissed me and helped me to my feet. Nara sat where she landed, her face red from struggling against invisible bonds. Whatever Patrick had done to get her away from me had included imprisoning her. With a flick of his wrist, the bloody half-swords rose from the ground and floated into his outstretched hand. He clutched them both by their ornate jeweled handles.
Deliberately, slowly, he walked to Nara and stared down at her.
"Free me!" she screamed. "Free me, you bastard!"
"I ban thee, Nara Colleen MacKenzie of the Family Romanov. I ban thee from me and mine. We will never hear you. We will never see you. We will never know thy presence on this earth so long as your heart bears us ill will."
Her shocked expression crumbled into agony. "Do not ban me! Do not do this! I love you. You are mine, Patrick O'Halloran. You are mine!"
"Walk in the place between worlds, Nara. This is your punishment for cruelty and for avarice. So do I will it, and so mote it be."
"Padraig! Nooooo!"
I watched in awe as Nara faded into nothingness. The vampires who still encircled us, watching the action in silent regard, dispersed. It was eerie to watch the undead walk out of a cemetery—almost like I was stuck in one of those Sci Fi Channel movies Jenny liked to watch.
I looked at Patrick. "What the hell just happened?"
"Nara is in a place that exists between this world and the Otherworld," he said. "She will never bother you, or me, or any that are under our protection. And she will stay there for as long as she feels hatred and vengeance toward me and mine."
"She's gone? Just like that?"
"Banning is not done easily or taken lightly."
Patrick returned to where I stood and with one arm, gathered me into an embrace. He held away the knives, but over his shoulder, I could see the gleam of the blades still red with my blood.
"Wait." Patrick held out the swords. The blood sparkled away. Then the swords disappeared like Scotty had beamed them up to the circling Enterprise. Impressive and unnerving that he could do stuff like that.
"I'm sorry she hurt you," Patrick whispered into my hair as his arms wrapped around me.
"Those little scratches? Puh-lease! I've had hangnails that were worse." I slid my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. I couldn't help a little squeeze. He had a great ass.
"Hungry?"
"Starved."
Patrick drew me into his embrace and gently pressed me against his throat. "Go on, love."
Before I could offer protest, my fangs pierced his flesh almost of their own accord. Yeah, I wanted some nosh, but I loved biting Patrick. I found something erotic about drinking from him, about regenerating because of him. I wish we could do other kinds of piercing.
"Enough," he murmured.
I licked his neck. He s
huddered at my touch, his hands drifting up my arms. I heard his thought: Oh, Jessica. What you do to me, love.
For a moment, I couldn't remember why I couldn't bind with him. Why I was denying myself his presence, his love. Images of Bryan and Jenny snapped into my mind—instant reminders of my present… and my future.
"I really want a shower," I said. His grasp tightened on my shoulders. I knew he was thinking about the last time we'd been together—in that lovely tub with its gurgling waterfall. "Alone," I clarified.
"Damnú air."
"You're cussing!"
"I refuse to admit to uttering bad words in any language." Patrick grinned and his teeth flashed white. "Jenny has been Googling German insults. I don't want her to look up Gaelic next."
Oh Lord. I tried not to think about what kind of information Jenny discovered in her search. "You let her Google curse words?"
"She said it was for educational purposes."
"Yeah, right. You are so fired as the baby-sitter."
Chapter 24
Patrick escorted me home, kissed me until my toes curled, then left to go check on his brother. I was thrilled that Lor was okay and that he was back to normal. Well, normal for a blood-drinking dead guy.
Jenny was ensconced in the living room watching a Bratz movie with her Bratz dolls. Those things creeped me out, especially how their feet were changed out. Their feet. If they didn't have shoes on, they had these little knobs at the end of their legs. Ick, ick, ptooey.
The blast of music that greeted my vamp ears indicated my son was in his bedroom. My guess was that he had a Pepsi in one hand and a PS2 controller in the other.
I took a quick shower and got dressed in the usual summer attire, threatened to remove Bryan's stereo if he didn't turn down the music, and made it downstairs in time to watch Jenny lure Stan into the evil world of Bratz.
"You switch out their feet?" he asked in a horrified voice as he accepted one of the dolls.
Good God. I snuck outside lest I, too, was drawn into the terrors that awaited poor Stan.
"The minute she pulled out those dolls, I ran," said Linda. She sat on the porch swing, gently rocking. She looked like Valentine's Day candy with her pink pants and purple crop top. Her poofy red hairdo clashed, but at the same time, well, it was full-on Linda.