by Laura Del
“That’s convenient,” I muttered.
“And fuckin’ creepy,” Mortimer added.
Ignoring that, I focused on figuring out what was going on. “Is Mike in trouble? He’s not answering my calls.”
“Let me check,” Andrew paused, closing his eyes for a second. “Well, I don’t see anything wrong,” he answered, opening his eyes. “He’s alive and okay.”
“Then why isn’t he answering?” I asked, frustrated.
He smiled awkwardly. “I can’t tell you that. It would ruin it.”
“Ruin what?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Some clairvoyant you are,” I huffed, folding my arms.
He shrugged. “I’m not allowed to interfere with certain things, and this is one of them. Sorry.”
“Gee, thanks,” I hissed sarcastically. “You can go back to bed now.”
Andrew placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry, Pat. It’s the rules. But I promise he’s safe.”
I nodded, and as he took his hand off my shoulder, we said our goodnights and I closed the door on him. I sighed, turning around to see Mortimer shaking his head. “Fuckin’ psychics. Always about balancin’ the Universe, and never tellin’ ye what ye need ta know. It’s so frustratin’. It’s like Kathryn. She says dat it’s all subjective, like dat’s supposed ta make me feel better.”
“Glad to know I’m not the only one this upsets.”
“Come on,” he said, patting the bed, “it’s time ta sleep. It’s almost midnight.”
I looked at the clock on my phone, and he was right. It was eleven-fifty-five, which meant I had been trying to call Mike for almost an hour now. “I’m not tired,” but as soon as those words were out of my mouth, my body betrayed me, and I yawned.
“It’s time fur bed,” he insisted and I nodded, placing my phone on the charger and then back in my bag.
Mortimer turned down the covers for me, and I hopped in as quickly as I could. As he got in behind me, he placed his arm around my waist. “What do you do when I’m not awake?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. “I mean, you don’t exactly sleep during the night, do you?”
He laughed. “No, we don’t. So I watch ye.”
My head whipped around so fast that it actually hurt. “What?”
“Not like dat,” he explained. “When ye close yer eyes, I close mine ta watch the thoughts dat come and go. Dat’s why Samuel can’t get through. I’m blockin’ ‘em.”
“Well, that’s a relief. For a minute there I thought you just stared at me all night long.”
He shook his head. “Nah, dat would be creepy.”
I cocked a brow at him. “You think?”
He laughed, and I turned my head back around, snuggling down into the blankets. Then he started humming that soft tune again, and before I knew it, I was fast asleep.
It was dreamless until I saw a light peeking through my vision. Everything was blurry at first then it all started to come into focus until I was on a bed staring at a candle lit in the corner of the room. “You have got to be kidding me?” I hissed as I looked around the dungeon bedroom Samuel conveniently had behind his bookshelf. This was the room of my nightmares. The room where I was saved by a queen but not before I was defiled by a jerk. It was dark, as always, and had bones in one corner of the room. The dungeon smelled of damp and death while the sheets on the bed where soft silk and blood red. There were candles everywhere, and the light that came from them was dim, but I could still see the death and decay that permeated the room. I shivered at the sheer thought of being there.
“You always did have a strange sense of humor,” Samuel’s deep voice crept up my spine, and I suddenly felt nauseous.
I sat up, ready to face him, and he sauntered over to me with a smirk on his face. I stood as quickly as I could, and I glared at him. “How the hell did you get past Mortimer?”
“Using our big girl words again,” he chuckled.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I hissed.
He waved me off. “I am stronger than the lad. It’s not that difficult. Besides, your mind is mine to control, not his.”
“Unlike you, Mortimer is a gentleman,” I snapped. “He would never control my mind even if I begged him.
“He is a coward!”
“You are a coward!”
He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, his face softened just a little. “I did not come here to argue with you. I came to apologize for your hand and what your sister did.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What did you do to her?”
“She is none of your concern.”
“She’s my sister,” I yelled. “She is my flesh and blood. What the fuck did you do to her?”
“Did it ever occur to you that she might have done it to herself?” he stated calmly, trying to play with me.
I shook my head. “You forget I know what it’s like to be in this place at your mercy.” I walked closer to him. “I swear if you’re doing to her what you did to me—”
“I am doing nothing to her,” he insisted.
“You lie so well. Mariah should be proud.”
He glared at me. “What are you speaking of?”
It was my turn to smirk. “You know exactly what I am speaking of.”
He came as close to me as he dared, and he cocked his head, looking into my eyes. I wanted him to look deep. I wanted him to see what I had envisioned when the story was told to me. His stare was unwavering, then I saw the realization come over his face, and he roared to the sky. “He had no right!”
“He had every right,” I said calmly.
“He should not have told you,” he hissed. “He is a traitor.”
I shook my head. “No. You are the traitor, Samuel. You allowed her to manipulate you and make you into something you’re not.”
“I am who I am,” he said in a low growl.
“You are who she made you out to be. That’s why you keep apologizing to me. That’s why you’re driving Jessica insane. It’s all about control just like Mariah taught you.”
“I left her,” he growled.
“You became her,” I spat back. “And you know what else? You’re proud of it.”
“I loved her,” he whispered, looking down at his feet.
He wasn’t talking about Mariah, he was talking about the duchess. “And you were relieved when she was dead.” As soon as I said it, his head snapped and his eyes blazed.
“That’s a lie!”
“It’s the truth,” I hissed, “and you know it. That’s why you did to me what Mariah did to her. You were making sure that she would stay dead. But I am not her, Satané. I am not her!”
He swiftly put his hand around my neck, and I could see in his eyes I was right. That all he wanted to do was keep the memory of her dead and buried, but I was a reminder of it. A reminder of his failure to be a decent man. His grip tightened, but not enough to strangle me, just enough to hold me in place. Then he threw me onto the bed, and I rolled off as quickly as I could, grabbing a sharpened collarbone off the floor.
When I pointed it at him, he chuckled, shaking his head. “This again,” he cooed. “We both know that you will not harm me.” He stalked me, cocking his head in the process.
I stood there, feeling every bone in my body tense. Then he chuckled again, and when it ran down my spine, something happened. Anger went through me like a shot, and as he ran in front of me, there was a split second for me to raise the pointed bone and nail it deep into his chest.
He stopped, mouth open and then he stared down at his chest. When he looked up at me again, he started to fade. First, it was his hands, then part of his head until finally I was watching him just disappear. Before long, I was standing in the dungeon alone and then the bottom fell out…
I
gasped as I awoke from the nightmare. Mortimer’s arm was dead weight on my stomach, and when I turned around to look at him, his eyes were closed, and it seemed as though he was asleep. I shook his shoulder and then his eyes fluttered open, and he smiled a little. “Aggie,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my neck in the process. Then he pulled my face closer to his and just as he was about to kiss me, I slapped him fully awake.
He blinked, astonished to see that I wasn’t my mother. “Patricia,” he said confused, “what ‘appened?”
I shrugged, putting aside the fact that he just tried to kiss my dead mother, thinking she was me. “I don’t know. I think you fell asleep.”
“Impossible,” he muttered. Then he looked as if he realized something. “Did Samuel…” his voice faded, and I nodded. “Bastard. Are ye all right? What ‘appened?”
“I killed him,” I answered, and his eyes widened. “I stabbed him in the chest with a sharpened bone.”
“Ye broke the connection?” He was stunned. “Wow. It takes some guts ta break a vampires hold on ye. I’m impressed.”
I felt my brows pull together. Some of the jargon vampires used just made no sense. “So does that mean that he’s never going to contact me through my dreams again?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, darlin’. No one has ever done it. I’m gonna have ta ask Kathryn.”
“Well, when you find out, I’d love to know.”
He nodded. “Will do.”
“Could you—” I gestured for him to let me out of the bed so I could go downstairs and get myself some water. All of a sudden, my mouth was screaming dry, and I needed something before I started spitting sand.
“Pat,” Mortimer called when I was out of bed. I kept my back to him. “About me sayin’ yer mother’s name—”
“Honestly, Mortimer,” I said, still not looking at him, “I don’t want to know right now. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
I walked out on him before he could offer up any information or explanation. The fact that he may or may not have had a relationship with my mother bothered me a little, but not as much as the fact that I had just killed my ex-vampire husband in my dream and had no idea what the repercussions were. So I figured I would focus on the latter and worry about the former later.
As I descended the staircase, I heard something at the door, and my heart leapt into overdrive. At first, it was a quiet sound, like a branch scratching against the wood. Then it grew louder until it was so loud that I was afraid it would wake the whole house. I made it down the rest of the stairs and very slowly walked to the front door.
My mind went to one place before I opened it. That Samuel had somehow actually been injured in the dream, like I had been so many times before, and he was outside waiting to kill me the first chance he got. But when I looked out the peephole there was no one in sight. Finally, curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door. I looked around to see no one there, but as I looked down at the welcome mat, I saw the most shocking thing of my life. Well, one of them anyway.
chapter
SIXTEEN
“Oh my goodness,” my voice was soft as I bent down to see the cutest Husky puppy with the biggest blue eyes. He was looking up at me and whimpering, so I bent down to see if he had a collar or anything, and when I did, the poor little guy licked my face. I couldn’t help myself. I picked him up, not knowing if he had fleas, and, at that moment, I didn’t care. He was just so darn cute. “Hi, puppy,” I cooed, standing up with him in my arms. The only reason I knew it was a little guy was because he most definitely was not neutered.
I walked him inside, looking him over as I shut the door with my foot. It looked like he was bleeding from his front right paw. It didn’t look bad, but I would have to have Doc Miller look at when her office opened. She was one of the best vets in the area. The only thing was her office didn’t open until nine. Nevertheless, I was sure if I called her at home, she’d open a little early for me.
The poor little boy nuzzled against me and yipped a little when I touched his injured paw. I petted him to keep him quiet so the whole house wouldn’t wake. Then I walked him into the kitchen, turned on the light, and checked to see if the little one had mites or anything like that. As I placed him on the median, he cried, but not enough to suggest that he was in terrible pain. Finally, I looked into his fur, and I didn’t see anything creepy-crawly, but he was in serious need of a bath. The poor little guy was covered from head to toe in dirt, and his paws were caked in mud.
“You poor baby,” I said, trying to get him to stop shaking. He was bone cold, and I grabbed a dishtowel to wrap him in it until I could run him a hot bath. “How long have you been running around? You look so tired. Poor baby.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Mortimer whispered. But before I answered, his eyes grew wide, and he smiled. “Puppy,” he said, picking him up off the counter, and rocking him in his arms. The pup seemed to take to him immediately and licked his nose while Mortimer kissed him back. It melted my heart.
“Ye poor t’ing,” he said softly to the dog. “Where’d ye find ‘em?” he asked me not looking up.
“Outside,” I replied. “He seems to be hurt. And in bad need of a bath.”
“The poor little lad. What’re we gonna do fur his paw?”
“Wait until the vet opens and see what she says. But first,” I paused walking over to them, “someone needs a bath and some water to keep him hydrated.” I looked at the clock over the stove, and it read almost four in the morning. “We’re going to have to be super quiet.”
“Whatever ye say, Captain,” Mortimer whispered, winking at me. Then he turned around and nearly skipped down the hall with the puppy in arms.
I shook my head, turning off the light. But before I followed, I had the oddest feeling that someone was watching me. I turned on my heels, looking out the back doors, but there was nothing out there. Still, it didn’t mean that someone wasn’t watching me another way, so I ran down the hall, nearly killing myself when my socks slipped on the hardwood floor.
Mortimer was already at the top of the stairs and I smiled at him, walking up in a hurry. “Come on,” I said, gesturing for him to follow, and I went to the bathroom in front of him.
“I’m not the one bein’ a slowpoke,” he muttered.
“I heard that,” I breathed, trying to get my heart rate under control before he sensed something was wrong.
Once inside, we closed the door as quietly as possible, and I began to run a bath for the little one. Mortimer washed him, considering that my one arm was in a cast, and the puppy seemed to enjoy every minute of it. He whimpered a little when Mortimer got to his bad leg, but other than that, not a sound came from him. I told Mortimer to use the regular shampoo, and when he did, all the mud and dirt washed away. We watched as the husky went from brown to white, except for his very black nose. Then as I looked him over again, I noticed that the blood I thought was coming from the paw was actually coming from his leg. He had an ugly two-inch gash, and as Mortimer dried him, I went into my room to get the gauze in my toiletry bag.
I tiptoed back into the bathroom, seeing Mortimer had the puppy wrapped snuggly in a towel. “Hold him so I can get the bandage on,” I said, using my good hand to wrap the gauze around his skinny leg.
“What’re we gonna name ‘em?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The vet is going to have to check to see if he has a chip in him first. Then we can think of names.”
Mortimer frowned a little. “Ye mean, we may not be able ta keep ‘em?”
“I doubt he belongs to anyone,” I answered. “But better safe than sorry.”
“What do we call ‘em until then?”
“Puppy,” I replied, and the little fellow’s ears perked up. “See? He likes it.” I petted him on the head, and he closed his eyes. “Poor thing probably needs a nap.”
“Can ye take �
�em while I get ‘em somethin’ ta drink?” Mortimer asked, and I nodded. He handed me the puppy-filled towel and left us in the bathroom.
Carefully, I walked into my bedroom, sitting on the bed. “You tired, puppy?” As if to answer me, he yawned, and I yawned right with him. “Yeah, me too,” I sighed, so I placed him down on the bed. When I finally looked down at my shirt, I saw that it was covered in dirt, so I decided to change.
As I grabbed another one out of the bag, I took the dirty one off in the process. As I looked back, the puppy was covering his eyes with his paw. I just shook my head. “What a little gentleman,” I cooed, placing the clean shirt on.
I turned back around to see that he was looking at me again, so I decided to cuddle with him until Mortimer came back with the water. Picking him up, I placed him next to my neck as I lay down, putting the covers over both of us. He snuggled in closer to me, and his warmth relaxed me enough that I closed my eyes.
The next thing I knew, Mortimer was shaking me awake with an almost panicked look on his face. “Mortimer?” I yawned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s gonna be a sunny day t’day,” he said.
I blinked a couple of times, trying to understand what he was saying, and then my eyes widened. I bolted upright, disturbing the sleeping puppy, and he cried a bit. “Oh, shit. What are you going to do?”
“I was wonderin’ if I could stay in the garage?” he asked, his voice slightly panicked.
“Sure,” I breathed, “I’m just going to have to keep Pops out of there.”
He nodded abruptly. “Dat would be smart.”
“What time is it anyway?”
“Almost seven,” he answered, frantically looking out the window.
I was in awe of how long I slept, but I guessed that was what happened when you forcibly broke the connection with a vampire. “Please, go. Don’t worry about anything. I have to take the puppy to the vet anyway.”