by CC MacKenzie
And she had the most peculiar sensation of her vampyre sitting up, alert and ready to spring into action.
Without uttering a single word, he stepped past her placing himself between her and the balcony.
His vividly blue eyes searched the night skies, narrowing fractionally as they probed the rooftops.
"Didn’t anyone tell you that at any one time hundreds of Centuri have their eyes upon you? You’re giving them quite a show, darlin’," he said in a silky voice that made her mouth go dry.
She scanned the rooftops and sure enough there they were. Her enhanced eyesight was able to see quite clearly that Centuri were changing rooftop positions in sequence.
However, she wasn’t absolutely certain they were looking in her direction.
Why the hell was James angry with her?
How was she supposed to know all the bloody rules of being a vampyre?
He’d hardly been the help and support he’d promised, had he?
With a toss of her dark curls, Charlotte decided that the days when she stood trembling in front of his anger were long gone.
"I’m sure it’s nothing they haven’t seen before," she said, not bothering to hide the bite to her tone. "Is this how my life is going to be now? Watched all the time? The only people who treat me as if I'm not about to have a nervous breakdown are Anais, Saira and Ezekiel. Why? Why did you do this to me?"
The sixty-four-thousand dollar question.
"I didn't mean for you to get hurt like this, Charlie."
"Why did you marry me in the first place?"
He blinked.
"How can you ask me that? I love you."
Her brows rose.
"Really? Then I cannot imagine what you'd do to me if you ever hated me."
In the gesture of one utterly frustrated male, he ran his hand over the back of his neck.
His blue eyes held hers.
"This is not helping us, Charlie."
"No," she agreed as anger leaked away leaving her tired and disoriented. "You're right. When can I go back to work?"
"You can't."
That was it?
No discussion?
No debate?
The embers of anger sparked now, stoked by outrage.
"What do you mean I can't?"
"We need to keep you close, for your own safety."
She caught the tone of something in his voice, something that made her vampyre listen carefully.
"Am I not safe here?"
James fingered the jewel and the gold chain of his bloodstone in his pocket.
And the smooth feel of it gave him strength.
God, she looked fabulous.
Amazing.
Gorgeous.
"Of course you're safe. It's just..."
The way those big green eyes stared into his made him stop.
Jesus, what was the matter with his mouth? He could hardly articulate a single thought.
"Want to know something?" she asked now in a belligerent tone, her eyes cold.
"What?"
"You are not the person I thought you were when we married. I don't recognize you. I don't know you. And at the moment I don't even like you."
Fair enough.
He wasn't so fond of himself at the moment either.
How the hell had he made such a monumental mess of her life, of his life?
"It'll get better, Charlie. I promise."
Cue a long silence.
"Will it? What if I want a divorce? How does that happen in your world?"
Cue another long silence.
"I refuse."
"And that's it?"
"Pretty much."
"Get out."
***
Marcus lay replete in his wife's arms.
His head rested on her flat belly and her fingers stroked his hair, his scalp, in a way that made his vampyre purr in ecstasy. He loved being with Anais like this. Loved it.
She wasn't yet a completely formed vampyre. Everyone was different and some humans took years to enter their peak condition. Her canines were itty bitty baby fangs. Sure, they were whiter than white, but she was hardly a real threat to anything other than human. Not yet.
"When I saw him briefly this evening," she murmured, "I got the impression that James is terribly conflicted."
True.
No one said his baby wasn't sharp.
Even though he knew it would provoke her, he responded to her question with a question,
"How's Charlotte holding up?"
Her little huff of annoyance made his mouth curve, he kissed her belly to make up for it.
Her hard tug on his hair told him she wasn't fooled, but she answered,
"She's good. Ezekiel reckons she's embracing her magic with a fierce determination and enthusiasm. She's going to be a powerful force for good as well as a healer."
Marcus bit down hard on his bottom lip.
Well, now wasn't that news bad news for James and the rest of the family?
If the Order got wind of Charlotte embracing her new skill set, they'd do everything within their power to take her by fair means or foul. And how was he going to tell his wife about the potential political fallout of their meeting in New York? Anais had entered a very complex and, at times, brutal world. She was only starting to learn the rules of that world. Rules which Marcus accepted for a woman like his wife were at times illogical and counterintuitive.
He must have tensed because immediately her hair stroking stopped.
"What is it?"
His deep sigh broke a special bonding moment.
He sat and pulled her into his arms and this time he was the one doing the stroking as he nuzzled her hair, inhaling the scent of his woman.
"If Charlotte is responding well to Ezekiel's teaching of magic we're in big trouble."
She pulled away from him to stare up into his face.
Her dark eyes were searching and serious.
"Why?"
He explained what had happened in New York and gave her a crash course on the politics encompassing the Order and vampyre religion.
Now she rose and tugged on the first thing that came to hand, his T-shirt (God, he loved it when she wore his clothes) and moved to pace around the room. She always paced when she was thinking.
Her smooth brow creased.
"I feel as if all I learn these days is nothing but bad news. In the last four days three little boys have gone missing in Manhattan, taken from their cots while they slept. The windows were locked, the doors were locked and there's no sign of them. Normally, like the authorities, I'd look at the parents first, but the parents are all professionals who are absolutely devastated and confused. Two of them had CCTV in the baby's bedroom to keep an eye on their nanny or child care provider and in both cases at the point when the child disappears the cameras record nothing but darkness for about ten seconds. It's beyond weird. And did you see the Ebola virus has mutated and is airborne? Ezekiel is deeply concerned by both events and impatient to heal." She stopped dead when she saw the black look cross his face when she mentioned the witch. "Don't even go there, Marcus. What on earth is wrong with you and James? Ezekiel is not a monster. On the contrary, he's been patient and very kind to me, but especially kind to Charlotte. Which is more than I can say about you or your brother."
Stung by what he considered an unprovoked attack, he blinked.
"What do you mean by that, my wee darlin’?"
She glowered and glared at him.
"Both of you were prepared to kill Charlotte." She snapped her fingers. "Just like that, as if she was no more than a bug underfoot. I'm beginning to think I'm the one who married a monster."
Stunned, he sat up straight against soft pillows, and reached out with his thoughts to touch her mind. He'd promised her never to link to read her thoughts without her express permission. And he understood her demand for privacy, respected it even. But now his necessity to figure out what was behind her verbal assault upon him overrode every other co
nsideration. The hurt and confusion he read there simply floored him. She thought he had no conscience? He had no heart? Then the conversation they'd had the last time they'd been in bed replayed in his mind.
'What does one do with a psychotic vampyre?'
'One kills it.'
Christ, she'd misinterpreted what she'd seen in his eyes.
She hadn't seen him, she'd seen his vampyre.
Marcus rose and dragged on his black cotton long pants and tied them at the waist.
Sinking to the edge of the bed, he kept his eyes on hers.
He read the anxiety, the worry, the underlying fear and knew he had to work fast to put this misunderstanding between them right.
"When I said those words to you about destroying a psychotic vampyre, you must understand that in the past when an emerging newborn has gone insane by the change, the results have been catastrophic. Whole villages have been wiped out in a single night by bloodlust. I'm talking about women, children, infants, as well as men. We have a responsibility to ensure humans, as well as vampyres, are not injured or killed by an action that is our responsibility. This is why we never, ever, permit newborn vampyres to mix with humans too soon. Especially when they are reluctant to feed. You must understand that for James to eliminate Charlotte, the woman he loves more than life, would destroy something fundamental in him, too. It isn't unusual for a vampyre who has lost his mate to follow her unto The Fade. If James couldn't bring himself to do it, I, as the eldest brother, must destroy her for him. Most likely he would then enter seclusion in a place of safety, such as one of the monastic orders built upon the tallest and isolated mountains in the Carpathians or Tibet. Many vampyres who lose their mate never return to the world. Family is everything to vampyres. Everything."
For the longest time she simply stood there, her dark eyes searching his.
He knew everything in his heart for her was exposed in his eyes. He had nothing to hide. When it came to his feelings for Anais, he knew there was no point in misplaced macho pride. And he saw the minute she accepted him, vampyre and all. Her beautiful mouth went soft, as did her eyes. She reached out to him as she moved to settle on his lap and hold him tight.
"Well, at least we don't need to worry about Charlotte losing her mind. She has been amazing and so brave. I like her. I like her a lot."
Marcus wasn't surprised she'd found a friend in Charlotte, both women had gone through a rigorous baptism of fire to become vampyre.
"Yes, well, let's not count our chickens quite yet. She'll need to put her magic aside if she wants to avoid the attention of the Order."
"I do not understand why you and your kind are so set against a natural phenomenon. You can fly, for God's sake. Surely that ability uses a kind of magic?"
"No. We levitate, think of it like switching off gravity."
"That explanation does not hold water, Marcus. What other animals, birds for example, levitate?"
"It's to do with having the levitating gene, where our kind can manipulate the earth's magnetic field, which is why we're aware the earth's polarity is moving from north to south. It affects our abilities. We cannot do it for any length of time because the lack of gravitational pull affects our bone density."
She sniffed, a sound pregnant with disbelief.
"It all sounds a load of gobbledygook to me. I suspect the capability to levitate is a magical ability that, for some reason best known to your leaders, is being denied. Denial is not just a river in Egypt you know."
He fought to keep his face straight at the implication he was intellectually blinkered.
"You are, of course, entitled to your opinion. However, back to the subject, it's important James makes Charlotte understand the dangers she faces if she continues down the path Ezekiel has set out for her. It is all very well for the witch to turn his back on his kind, and his wife. I suspect Charlotte, no matter how betrayed she might feel about how she was brought into our world, might find it impossible to turn her back on James." He rubbed his cheek against hers, revelling in the silky and soft flesh, the light floral scent that was so unique to Anais. As he enjoyed the feel and the smell, he felt the strong thud of her heart against his heart. "I saw the parents of one of the missing little boys on the news. They said he simply disappeared. The mother was beyond distraught. The father hollow-eyed. Cruelty comes in all shapes and disguises, Anais. Why is Ezekiel interested in their disappearance?"
She shook her head and turned to press her mouth to his in a soft kiss.
"How do I know? He's driving Saira nuts by his impatience and irritability that he's not recovering from his wounds fast enough. Under his breath he was muttering something about talking to your father about the kidnappings. Why would he want to do that?"
Marcus frowned at that news.
It was a very fair question.
What was his father supposed to do about missing children?
Unless the witch believed a vampyre was somehow involved in their abduction?
But to what purpose?
The days when there was a reason that vampire were called baby-snatchers, when they stole infants and toddlers from their beds, had long past with Vlad the Impaler. It was true certain elements in their society, elements who followed the teachings of the Order, did regard the blood of very young humans as religiously chaste, untainted by disease. And for those who believed that by drinking the blood of humans, they also somehow took their memories into their own (a load of crap), dark memories of dark deeds. However, in today's vampyre society there were clear polices outlawing the practice. No human child had been taken for such a purpose for many years, certainly not in the twentieth century.
The Ebola news was certainly something worth worrying about, especially if it spread rapidly. He knew Constantine and his team were working night and day to find an antidote. Unfortunately, that meant taking blood samples from those already sick and dying. And from what they were seeing emerge in Africa, death was coming too fast to keep pace with the outbreak. Closing country borders hadn't come fast enough. A human catastrophe was unfolding live on twenty-four-hour news media around the world.
"We are vampyre. We cannot get sick in the way of humans. There is nothing for you to worry about."
Now she pushed back to look up into his face and he realized he'd annoyed her again.
"I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about my family, my friends. I'm worried about panic buying, schools closing, travel curtailed, the breakdown of society as we know it."
Fair enough and she was right.
He lifted his hand to stroke the heavy weight of inky hair back from her flushed cheek.
"No sign of Eleanor?" she added.
He shook his head.
"None."
She looked pensive.
"I don't think she's working alone. She knows too much about us."
No one said his wife's intellect wasn't sharp as a blade. "She's not."
"Any idea whom?"
"Or what?"
"What?"
"I mean, she may have joined with unnatural forces."
She blinked. "You mean supernatural creatures?"
"Maybe."
"Do I really want to know?"
"Let us not worry until we have something to worry about."
She nodded.
"You're right." Then those almond eyes went dark. "But I have a bad feeling about all this."
So did he, but he'd be hung naked over hot coals before he admitted it and caused her a moment's distress.
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte stood in front of her husband with her arms folded across her waist, a purely defensive pose. The impudent jerk of her chin somewhat spoiled the effect.
"I do not want this life for me, James. Can it be undone?"
She knew, even as she asked the question what the answer would be.
"No."
"I don't care how long it takes, you will pay for this," she hissed the promise.
And in her mind her vampyre
did a little happy dance that she was finally asserting herself.
She moved to pass him and found herself backed up against the wall of their bedroom.
James slapped his hands either side of her head and bent his knees to look deep into her eyes.
Her tongue licked her top lip and his eyes dropped, appearing riveted on the move.
Lifting her hand she gave his silk tie a couple of insolent jerks.
"Move," she said.
His eyes went dark and hot as they studied the pulse racing in her throat then burned a hot path down across her breasts.
Her nipples went too hard so fast she gasped.
His eyes flashed to hers and what she read there threatened to make her do more than just tremble.
His mouth came within a breath of hers and she forced herself to remain absolutely still.
She closed her eyes against the sight, the scent of him.
He smelled absolutely divine.
Spice and male.
Liquid need bloomed, like a flower opening to the sun, deep in her belly.
Her mouth actually watered from the sharp impulse to take a quick bite out of his strong jaw, but she would not kiss him first.
"Kiss me," he commanded.
She immediately obeyed and her vampyre did a huge eye roll.
When their lips touched, he groaned, she groaned; electrical energy seemed to tingle over her skin. She'd never, ever, felt anything like it.
God, he tasted fabulous. And she drank him in like a woman who’d been in the desert without water for a week. Nothing had ever felt so heavenly, so good, as this kiss. If it took changing into a vampyre just to have this one moment of perfection between them, would she endure it again?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Their mouths feasted, their teeth clashed as their tongues tasted in a way that made her hands itch to pull his body closer. But his hands remained on the wall and hers were fisted at her sides.
She let loose a cry.
He let out a heavy breath.
He stepped back and away.
All Charlotte could do was lick the taste of him from her lips and hope to hell her legs would hold her upright.
His dark blue eyes never leaving her face, his chest heaving, James shrugged off his jacket, his tie, and began to unbutton his shirt of crisp white cotton.