by Laura Del
She shook her head. “No, I wasn’t joking. Why would I joke about a thing like that?”
I shrugged. “Because you’re Tina Iglesias, and that’s what you do.”
“True,” she said, and we both laughed. “You know,” she added, “I like when you laugh. That bastard may have broken your wrist and nearly tired to kill you—”
“More than once.”
“But he did you a great service by getting you to feel again. I mean,” she walked up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders, “you were scaring me. And I don’t scare easy.”
“Let’s not tell him that he helped me, okay? He already has enough of an ego as it is.”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
But I couldn’t help admit to myself that he had returned my emotions. After my mother died, they had all pretty much stopped, and when Samuel came along, he sparked something inside me. Mostly lust, but it was just enough to get all of the emotions flowing again. All of which was both a blessing and a curse.
Tina broke my inner babble. “You okay?”
I nodded and then shrugged. “I have something to tell you.”
“What?” she asked all ears.
“Kathryn sent me a vision,” I explained, finally getting it off my chest. I told her about everything and when I was done, she nodded.
“Okay,” she replied calmly. “How I see it is you have nothing to worry about until Andrew says it’s for sure.” She was right. Then again, she was usually right. “And besides,” she went on, “she was the one who said you were gonna die, and you’re still here.”
“True,” I said, and we both laughed a little. Then the doorbell rang. “I got it,” I announced. Tina nodded, leaving me alone in the hallway.
My body aching badly, I dragged my feet the entire way to the front door, and when I opened it, there stood a tall, lanky man with red hair and gray eyes. His face was so angular that he looked like a Greek statue, and his skin was soft ivory. I almost reached out and touched him to see if he was real, but stopped myself, because that would have been rude and inappropriate.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Madam,” he said with a deep Irish brogue, “but would ye happen to be a Ms. Wyatt?”
“I would,” I answered, my spine straightening. Something about this man was off, and I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
“T’ank the dear lord above,” he replied, placing his hand on his chest in relief. “Dis is the t’ird house I’ve been ta taday. I ‘ave ta tell ye, I ‘ave been runnin’ round for about an ‘our now, and me feet are killin’ me. Metaphorically speakin’, mind ye.”
I took a better look at him and noticed that he had on a pair of the tightest black jeans I had ever seen, a brown pilot jacket, and the most beautiful pair of black wingtips. “Can I help you with something?” I finally asked when I stopped staring at how shiny his shoes were.
“Ye may,” he answered with a smile and a nod. “I am Mortimer Birns. Yer new bodyguard.”
“My what?” I nearly shrieked. This normal looking man in front of me was a vampire? There was no way. “You’re the vampire Samuel sent?”
He nodded. “‘Tis I. Yes. He told me ta tell ye that I…” his voice trailed away. “Saints preserve us,” he continued, hanging his head. “He did say dat I wasn’t supposed ta tell ye that I was ‘ere. So sorry, me lady. I was supposed ta keep in the shadows. I’m afeard I mucked it up. Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady.”
I gaped at him, trying to figure out if he was for real. But nothing about him ringed untrue. He was a genuine gentleman, and it shocked the shit out of me. “It’s…” I paused, debating whether should do it or not. Then I decided to go for it. “It’s okay,” I finally said. “Would you like to come in?”
He shook his head so vigorously that his curls actually bounced. “No, me lady. I do not wish ta intrude.”
“Please, it’s Pat,” I corrected. “Not ‘my lady,’ not ‘madam,’ just plain Pat. Got it?”
Mortimer smiled, showing me a mouthful of straight white teeth. The smile was so wide it actually made the skin around his eyes crinkle. This grin made his gray eyes sparkle with delight, almost ruining that godlike perfection with such a human facial expression. Almost. “Yes, Pat,” he responded.
The way he smiled tickled a memory in the back of my brain. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked, but before he could answer Pops was right by my side, looking at the giant standing in his doorway.
My father looked him up and down, and then looked at me. “Something wrong, baby girl?”
I shook my head, but Mortimer answered. “No, sir. Yer daughter was just bein’ as kind as she could be ta an old friend. ‘Tisn’t dat right, Pat?”
“Yes,” I answered, smiling over at my father. “I’m sorry, let me introduce you. Pops, this is Mortimer Burns.”
“Birns,” he corrected quietly.
“Birns,” I backtracked. “Mortimer, this is my father Richard Wyatt.”
They nodded at each other. “How do you know each other?” Pops asked.
Mortimer was there before I was. “University,” he supplied, and I closed my eyes, praying that my father believed him. “I was only there fur a semester but she told me dat if I ever was in the neighborhood dat I was ta stop by and say, ‘ello. So dat’s what I’m doin’. Sayin’ ‘ello.”
“Well,” Pops said, giving me a nudge, and I opened my eyes to see that he believed him, “why don’t you invite your friend to dinner, Patricia?”
“Oh no,” Mortimer protested, “I won’t want ta be a bother.”
“Nonsense,” my father grumbled, “we’d be happy to have you.”
Pops nudged me again, and I jerked out of my shock. “Yes,” I blurted, “please do come in.” And I meant it. After all, as the saying goes, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Besides, if he tried any funny business, there was a whole bunch of wooden chairs I could break up into stakes.
Mortimer walked past us, complimenting my father on his house. There was no way this man was the same breed as Samuel. He was too polite. Although there was the ungodly beauty, there was none of the ego unless it was buried down deep. Still, I couldn’t imagine this six-foot-four or something vampire to be a warrior like Samuel had said. Then I remembered the chuckle that he had let slip out, and I shook my head. Only my ex-husband would find it funny to send me a vampire that chased butterflies when he saw them, which was literally what happened two seconds later when Mortimer spotted one, in the rain, outside the glass sliding kitchen doors. That was Samuel for you, always the practical joker, especially when the joke was on me.
chapter
NINE
After Pops had mercifully gotten my meds from the pharmacy, the gang sort of shuffled in behind him. No one told them what happened this afternoon, and since they were helping with the wedding, they just figured it would be business as usual. But once Sandy, Mad and Bobby saw my wrist, they all burst into asking questions. Well, Bobby mostly screamed, while the girls just asked rational questions. I answered all of them as close to the truth as possible, and by the time everyone had settled down it was almost six-thirty at night.
We were all standing around the kitchen median, when Sandy said, “My God, he is sexy.”
Mad nodded. “Agreed. Not my type, but totally hot.” She had traded her wheelchair for crutches, and it looked as if she was much more comfortable standing.
Sandy kissed her forehead, and I smiled. “You two are so cute, it makes me sick,” I retched, and everyone laughed.
“Shut up,” Mad giggled, wrapping her arms around Sandy’s waist for support.
“Seriously though,” Tina chimed in, “I’m with them. He is fine.”
I sighed. “Not you too.” For the past two minutes all of my so-called friends were teasing me about Mortimer, and I didn’t like it. Not only because he was just across the room talki
ng to my Pops and Cindy, but because he could probably hear every word. It was so embarrassing.
“Have you two… you know?” Bobby asked, cocking a brow at me.
“No,” Andrew and I answered at the same time.
I gave him a look and his eyes widened, realizing what he had done. “No,” I repeated without the echo before anyone noticed, “I haven’t.”
“He’s probably gay, anyway,” Bobby exhaled, leaning against the marble countertop.
“And?” Sandy asked, looking over at him. “Who cares, he’s still hot.”
“That would be such a shame,” Tina chimed in. “I mean, all that gorgeousness just going to waste.”
“Tina,” I sighed her name, banging my forehead on the counter. Everyone laughed when I looked up, rubbing my brow. “Ow!”
Andrew shook his head. “He’s not gay.” We all looked at him. “What? I was just as curious as you all were, so I asked.”
“Are you gay?” Tina blurted, and Bobby spit out his water.
“No,” he answered as I helped wipe the counter off with a napkin. I watched him wink at her, and she blushed.
“Anyway,” I said, handing the wet napkins to Bobby for him to throw away, “he’s not my type.”
“What is your type?” Sandy asked.
“Yeah,” Mad chimed in, “all these years, Pat, and you’ve never talked about what you like in a man.”
“That’s because she doesn’t know,” Tina answered for me.
Andrew shook his head. “Oh, come on, ladies. Give Patricia a break. She’s had a really rough day.”
“Still,” Bobby mused, “it’s an interesting question. What’s your type, Patty Melt?”
I could see Tina bristle out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t like Bob and had no qualms letting everyone else know. “Andrew’s right, Robert, she doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t wanna.”
“Play nice,” I whispered to her, and she checked herself. “I’ll answer,” I continued, this time loud enough so everyone could hear me. “I honestly don’t know because I just happened to like two different kinds of men at once. One was sweet and kind… the other was… well, not sweet and kind.” They laughed. “I’d like to think that I was more of a personality girl than anything else, but I married Samuel on a whim. And let’s face it, he has the personality of a worm and the ego of a politician.”
They laughed again, and Mad asked, “What about that Mike guy?” She had moved back to leaning on her crutches and looked uncomfortable, but not deterred with trying to get answers.
I took a deep breath, feeling the bandages tighten around my stomach. After I had taken the pain meds, the scratches hadn’t hurt, but when I took that breath, they started to ache. “Well, he’s a nice kind of guy. One you can depend on…” my voice faded away as I thought of that werewolf trying to eat me, and I shuttered. “But he has a bit of a dark side. Not that he’d ever do anything to hurt me.” Oh, but he did, Pat, the little voice in my head reminded me, he had a lucid change when he attacked you. I shook myself. “Anyway, he’s… I don’t know… Mike.”
“Do you love ‘em?” Bobby inquired, and I felt everyone stare at me.
“I…” I felt hot all of a sudden, and when I tried to shake it off, it made me dizzy. “I do and I don’t.”
“Patty,” Tina whispered to me, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” I breathed, feeling really wonky. “I just need something to drink.”
Sandy pulled a glass from the cabinet above her and then walked over to the fridge getting some water from the spout. “Here,” she said, handing me the glass, and I took it.
“I think I’m going to go into the other room and sit for a bit,” I announced. “I just got really dizzy all of a sudden.”
“You want me to come with you?” Tina called as I began to walk toward the hall.
I shook my head. “No, I’m all right.”
As I made my way down the hall, I had to lean against the wall for support. Finally, I made it into the living room in one piece, and I sat down on the couch with a plop. Leaning my head against the back of the old brown couch, I closed my eyes to the nausea that overtook me. My head throbbed, and I could hear my heart in my ears. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
“You okay, sweetie?” Tina asked, and I opened my eyes to her standing beside me.
I shook my head. “Not really. I just feel really unwell.”
She placed her hand to my forehead like a mother would do. “Well,” she sighed, “you’re not warm. That’s good.”
I shrugged. “I guess. But I feel like death warmed up.”
“You look like it.”
I glared at her. “And you’re supposed to be my best friend?”
“Hey,” she huffed, folding her arms, “if I didn’t tell ya when you look like shit, what kinda best friend would I be?”
“True,” I replied with a nod, feeling a little better.
“You feeling better?” she asked as she sat next to me on the couch.
“A little.”
“Well, you’re not as pale as you were before. I mean, you’re always pale, but you’re not as green.”
I laughed. “Excuse me, but we can’t be all caramel colored goddesses like you.”
“Shut up,” she said, nudging me gently with her elbow. We sat in silence for a second until Tina broke it. “You know, you started to look really sick when you were talkin’ about Mike. I know he hurt you, but maybe you need to talk to him because not everyone is like you, Patty. Some people don’t push their emotions aside in order to get through certain things. Some people feel very deeply. And maybe you would feel a little less sick if you got everything out in the open with him. I mean, it would make talking about him, like, a lot easier.”
“Don’t destroy my resolve with your logic, Tina.”
She laughed a little then grew serious. “I mean it, Patty. Maybe that’s why you’re feeling sick. You know you did him a disservice by not staying and talking about the problem.”
I cocked a brow at her. “The problem?” I said, putting my glass of water down on the coffee table. “The problem was that he tried to kill me, and he knew he was doing it. The problem is that he’s a danger to me.”
“But you knew this before you fell in love with him,” she retorted gently, “didn’t you?”
“I did and I didn’t. I just—”
“Didn’t think he would do that to you?”
I nodded. “But I guess it was only a matter of time.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you were doing that thing where you put yourself into situations where you try to get hurt.”
“I don’t do that,” I said, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Much. Besides, it’s only been recently, like in the last couple of months, that I put myself in life threatening danger.”
Tina shook her head. “What about the time that you used that rickety ladder outside our two-story apartment building to rescue a cat?”
“Hey, she was a kitten, and crying. I couldn’t have left her there.”
“Yeah, and you almost broke your neck,” she reminded me.
“Only because that kid knocked into the ladder with his skateboard,” I protested.
“Or the time that you ran after that guy who stole that old lady’s purse.”
“But I got him,” I said with a sheepish smile.
“Patty!”
“I know,” I sighed. “I know. I’m a reckless and dangerous mess.”
“That’s an understatement,” she pointed out.
“Keep rubbing salt in the wound, why don’t you?”
She laughed again, putting her arm around me, pulling my head onto her shoulder. “You know what I think?”
“No,” I answered, “but I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“
You bet your ass,” she said and then went on to tell me what was in her head. “I think that you like the danger but don’t want the consequences. I also think that you’re not scared that he tried to kill you, you’re just frightened that he did it on purpose.”
I closed my eyes to the feeling that she was somehow right as usual. Tina knew me all too well, and it terrified me that sometimes she could be a better voice of reason than my own conscious. Then in typical Tina fashion, she said, “Besides, you need to resolve all this so you can have sex with that smoking hot Irish vampire in the other room.”
“Tina!”
“Just sayin’.”
She was always just sayin’, and I sat up to look at her. “Tina, no.”
“What?” she asked in her innocent baby voice.
“You know what.”
“Sex is a perfectly natural thing, Patty. And it would be a shame if you let this opportunity go to waste.”
“There’s one problem with your plan,” I told her.
“And what is that?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.
“I still happen to be in love with Mike.”
She shrugged. “A tiny, insignificant detail.”
I rolled my eyes, hugging her. Only Tina. When we broke apart, she got up off the couch, and I smiled up at her. “Thanks,” I finally said.
Her brow furrowed. “For what?”
“For always being there when I need you.”
She smiled down at me. “Always and always, babe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a psychic to seduce.”
She adjusted her breasts, and I laughed. “Easy, girl.”
“I’ll take it easy when I’m dead,” she said, winking at me and then left to use her charms on Andrew. Poor man didn’t even have a chance.
Before I had time to think, someone’s hand was in front of my face, and I jumped. I looked up quickly to see Mortimer handing me what looked like my cellphone. “T’aught ye might be needin’ dis.”
I took it from him, studying his face for a sign that he was anything like Samuel. Nothing. “Thank you,” I replied with a nod.