The Taming of the Vamp (The Murdoch Vampires Book 2)

by Jaye Wells

  It was the closest thing to a compliment I’d ever received from my father.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’m relieved you are keeping an open mind.”

  “However,” he said, “I am curious about what caused this miraculous transformation.”

  My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Gabriella, you have to admit it’s rather convenient that after several decades of me trying to get you to change your behavior with little success, you suddenly change your stripes in three months? As I said, convenient.”

  The nerve of the man!

  “Excuse me? Wasn’t it you who put together this little test for me? Didn’t you hold exile over my head, hoping I would choose to go through this three-month punishment and learn how to be a good vampire?”

  “Lower your voice,” he commanded. “Yes, indeed, I had hoped this experience would result in changes in your behavior. However, I was not at all optimistic it would work. My main goal was to have you make recompense with the Murdoch family for your crimes. I fully expected that you would still need exile at the end of the exercise.”

  My blood boiled. I’d been right all along. He wanted me to fail. Yet, even as I yearned to tell him off, I remembered Callum’s advice earlier about keeping my cool. Besides, my father was wrong. I had changed. I took a deep breath to calm myself before responding.

  “Whatever your expectations were does not matter now. The fact is I am different. Ask any of these people, and they’ll tell you that,” I said, motioning around the room. “If you chose to believe I am such a talented actress that for three months I could fool everyone, then that’s your problem.”

  I turned and walked away without a glance back. Pride swelled inside me as I calmly made my way into the dining room. For the first time ever, I’d told my father off without yelling or causing a scene.

  I could feel his gaze on me as I walked away, but I didn’t let myself falter or look back.

  Sydney was standing with Logan, Miranda, and Alaric as I approached.

  “Raven,” Miranda said. “Are you okay?”

  Obviously they had all watched our conversation with interest.

  “I’m great,” I said. “When do we eat?”

  Four sets of eyes looked at me in shock, as if surprised by my nonchalance.

  “Uh,” Syd said. She looked at Logan, who shrugged.

  “We actually need to take our seats now,” he said, nodding in Jorge’s direction. He stood at the front of the room frantically waving his hands at us. Geraldine stood beside him, shaking her head.

  “We’d better move it before he pulls something,” I said, following everyone to the long table reserved for the wedding party at the front of the room. Gwen, the officiant, was seated on one side of me, Miranda on the other. Callum, after finishing his conversation with a member of the council, sat at the far end of the table between Alaric and Kira.

  Waiters scurried around ushering the rest of the guests to their seats. The guests at our table were busy chatting as the salad course was brought from the kitchen.

  “Okay, spill it,” Miranda whispered to me as she placed her napkin in her lap.

  “What?” I asked, purposefully obtuse.

  “Raven, come on. You can’t tell me your conversation with your father went well.”

  “Actually, it did,” I said, taking a sip of my wine.

  Miranda stared at me with disbelief as I turned to Gwen.

  “So, how long have you been a witch?” I asked her, trying to make conversation. Up until then she’d mainly kept to herself, and talking to her gave me an excuse to avoid answering Miranda’s questions. My friend gave up on me and turned to talk to Sydney.

  Gwen chuckled. “You’re a piece of work, girlie.”

  Taken aback, I stared at her.

  “Me? What makes you say that?”

  “To answer your question, I’ve been a witch since birth. The craft has been handed down through the generations in my family from one woman to the next.”

  I frowned at her. “But what made you say I’m a piece of work?”

  “Oh, that,” she said with a wave of her beringed hand. “You can’t be in this business without getting a feel for people.”

  I couldn’t help but ask, “What feel do I give off?”

  She narrowed her eyes as if weighing the pros and cons of sharing her thoughts.

  “You wear a mask to hide your insecurity,” she said with a shrug.

  “What? No I don’t,” I said, picking up my wine for another sip. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Let me ask you something then? Have you told your boyfriend over there you’re in love with him?”

  My mouth reacted to her statement first, spewing wine all over myself. Ignoring the mess, I stared at Gwen with my mouth hanging open. Miranda gasped, grabbed a napkin, and furiously dabbed at my dress.

  “Raven, what did you do?” Miranda asked, sounding distraught.

  I ignored her and watched Gwen’s wrinkled face crack into a wide smile. Behind me Miranda ordered the waiter to bring her something for the stain. Sydney said something to her, but I didn’t catch it as I sat frozen.

  “You’re crazy,” I said finally.

  “Yes, I’m definitely crazy.” The old woman laughed. “But I’m never wrong about these things.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  My heart was pounding double-time as I tried to protest. The witch just laughed again.

  “Whatever.”

  As casually as she pleased, she reached into the bread basket as if she hadn’t just rocked my world at its foundation.

  “Garlic bread, yummy,” the witch said, dismissing me.

  Something hit my chest. Looking down, I realized Miranda had just thrown salt on me.

  “What the hell?” I said, dusting off my boobs.

  “It’s salt. You have to rub the stain with salt and lemon juice,” she said. Her other hand moved toward me with a slice of lemon.

  I slapped at her hand just before she squirted me with the wedge.

  “Do you mind?” I said, grabbing the napkin from the table.

  She looked hurt but resigned herself to instructing me on the proper way to remove wine from wool.

  “Miranda, it’s fine. Most of the wine landed on my napkin,” I said, holding up the wine-soaked material from my lap. “Besides, it’s just white wine. It’s not going to stain.”

  “Yes, but alcohol and wool don’t mix,” she said, deadly serious.

  I looked around the room, finally noticing that every eye was focused on us. Great. I’d managed to make a spectacle of myself after all. And just my luck, my father was at the table nearest ours, scowling at the scene.

  “I think I’ll take care of this in the bathroom,” I said quietly to my friend.

  “I’ll come with you,” she offered, grabbing the lemon wedge again.

  “No, I can handle it,” I said, rising with as much dignity as I could muster under the watchful gaze of the entire restaurant.

  Miranda sank slowly in her seat as she finally saw the attention we’d been getting. I walked behind the table, catching sympathetic looks from Kira and Sydney as I passed. Callum caught my eye, his look asking me if I was okay. I nodded quickly and walked with my head held high. Everyone must have lost interest in the drama because conversations started back up before I’d even left the room.

  “Stupid witch!” I said as I rubbed at the wet spots with a damp paper towel. “In love with Callum?”

  Was I? I admitted I liked him. And even cared about him. But love? Was I capable of love? It seemed love was for unselfish people, ones who put others before themselves. Love was also for people who could trust. And that definitely wasn’t me.

  Still, when I looked at Callum sometimes, I felt giddy and light-headed. And my heart felt kind of swollen in my chest. Was that love? I’d be damned if I knew.

  I stopped my rubbing to check on the progress only to find tiny white partic
les of paper towel had balled up all over my chest. As I slammed the towel down, tears stung my eyes.

  Why was it that whenever I seemed to be making progress I always found a way to screw it up? I knew I was being hard on myself. After all, I wasn’t the first person to spill wine on myself. And in my defense, Gwen’s announcement was pretty freaking shocking. But why did it have to happen tonight? I’d done so well handling my father only to make a scene in front of the entire restaurant.

  With a dry towel, I swiped at the dress, trying to dislodge the paper particles. I prayed to the goddess. If she would help me get through this with my dignity intact, I would never cuss again. She must have known I was lying, though, because the little balls clung like they’d been glued on.

  “Fuck!” I said, giving up on the towels altogether and trying to pick each piece off individually with my fingers. It was possible I was overreacting about the dress. But I was convinced that if I could handle that situation, everything would be okay.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and Kira walked in.

  “Raven, is everything all right?” she said, coming to stand next to me.

  “No,” I wailed.

  “Oh, dear, no tears. It’s not that bad,” she said, examining the dress.

  “The paper towel crapped all over me!”

  Stifling a smile at my histrionics, she calmly reached into her purse and pulled out a lint roller.

  “This should take care of that in a jiff,” she said, handing it to me.

  Damned if she wasn’t right. A couple of swipes of the adhesive roller, and the paper lint disappeared.

  With a sniff, I handed the roller back to her. “Thanks,” I said sullenly.

  “Chin up, dear. It was just a little spill.”

  I leaned against the counter with a sigh. “It’s not just that.”

  She smiled and patted my hand. “I know, dear. But you mustn’t let him see you upset.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Callum doesn’t need to see me freak.”

  “Callum? I meant your father,” she said, her brow creasing into a frown.

  “Oh! Yes, of course.” Was there no end to my ability to make an ass out of myself?

  She crossed her arms and regarded me levelly.

  “However, since you brought him up, I would like to speak with you about my son.”

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Oh yeah?” I said, trying to sound casual. “What about Callum?”

  Her look spoke volumes. “Raven, let’s not play games. I’ve known about your affair with my son for weeks.”

  I cringed. There was no talking myself out of this one.

  “How did you find out?” I asked.

  “Please. I’m sure you both thought you were being covert with your sneaking around. But dear, I’m a 700-year-old vampire. I don’t miss much. Besides, all the noise was enough to wake the dead.”

  “Uh.”

  I wanted to die right then and there—too bad I was immortal.

  She held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I know I expressed concern over this possibility at one time. However, over the last several weeks I have begun to suspect I might have been wrong.”

  My mouth gaped open. “You’re not mad?”

  “Of course not. You’re both centuries past the age of consent.”

  “Wow, Kira, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just tell me that you’re not going to break his heart,” she said.

  “I highly doubt that’s possible,” I said, laughing. “Kira, look, since we’re being frank here, I should tell you Callum and I are just having fun. You don’t have to worry about me becoming a member of the family or anything.”

  She shook her head and smiled at me. “You young ones are so blind.”

  I frowned. What the hell did that mean?

  “Just remember this: you’ve proven to all of us that despite your rebellious tendencies, you’re a worthy person. Perhaps you need to prove that to yourself next.”

  She was speaking in riddles or something because I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.

  “Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  She patted my hand again.

  “I’m glad we had this talk,” she said with a wink.

  “Uh, yeah, me too.”

  I felt relieved that it was finally out in the open but confused as hell about what that meant.

  “Now, shall we rejoin the dinner?” she said, opening the bathroom door for me.

  I nodded and followed her out. Together we walked back into the dining room. Callum caught my eye. As he watched us walk arm-in-arm toward him, his eyes widened. I touched his shoulder as I passed him, letting him know everything was okay.

  I resumed my seat, letting Miranda and Syd know everything was fine. And it was.

  Everyone else was so busy eating and chatting they’d barely noticed my return, which was a relief after the scene I’d caused when I left. Adding to my relief was the fact Kira hadn’t scratched my eyes out. Her philosophical attitude about the whole thing surprised me. But I wasn’t about to question my good fortune.

  I ignored the crazy witch, Gwen, for the rest of the dinner, instead discussing plans for the next day with Miranda and Syd. Soon dessert was finished, and guests were offered their choice of champagne or Lifeblood served in tall crystal flutes.

  The sound of silverware tapping on glass filled the room. Everyone turned their eyes to Callum, who stood.

  “I’d like to propose a toast to Sydney and Logan. Logan is my brother, as you all know, and I couldn’t be more proud to say that than I am on this occasion. He also chose a wonderful woman with whom to spend eternity. I know Mother would agree when I say we’re thrilled to welcome Sydney into our family,” he said.

  Turning to look at the couple, he raised his glass. “May the centuries bring you much happiness.”

  All the guests joined in the toast with appreciative murmurs. I tapped my flute of Lifeblood to Miranda’s and took a sip, thinking he did a great job toasting the couple.

  As soon as the room fell silent, I felt a kick on my ankle.

  “Ow,” I said, shooting a look at Miranda.

  “Toast,” she said from the corner of her mouth.

  “Yes, Callum did a great job,” I said, wondering why she’d kicked me.

  “No, idiot, you need to give a toast.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Maid of honor always gives a toast at rehearsal,” she said under her breath.

  No one had warned me about that little tradition. I looked around and saw Callum and Alaric looking at me expectantly. Callum motioned to his glass and then at me, a clear signal it was definitely my turn.

  Shit.

  Standing slowly, I felt all eyes settle on me. My mind, the ungrateful organ, was totally blank as I scrambled to think of something profound to say. Coming up with nothing, I decided to just wing it.

  “Hi, I’m Raven,” I said inanely, sounding like I was about to give testimony at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.

  The room was so silent, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I saw my father sitting there looking like he was waiting for me to screw this up. People had started to shift in their seats as I stood there staring dumbly at him.

  When he glanced at his watch, something shifted inside me. I realized that even though my father might think I was a waste of time, I wasn’t. I had friends in that room. I glanced over at the worried faces of the people I’d come to care about over the last few months. My father’s judgment didn’t matter.

  Gathering my thoughts, I attempted to regain control over the toast.

  “Oops, sorry, folks. Lost my train of thought for a second. Anyhoo. We’re here for Sydney and Logan’s special day,” I said, smiling at the couple. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m the maid of honor. I was surprised when Sydney asked me because let’s face it, we all know I don’t have the best track record.”

  A couple of u
ncomfortable laughs came from the audience. Callum winked at me from the end of the table.

  “Despite that,” I continued, smiling back at Callum, “Sydney took the time to get to know me. I have to say I am proud to call her my friend. Logan, you’re a lucky man.”

  Sydney beamed at me and took Logan’s hand. The look he gave her was so full of love I got a little choked up.

  “In fact, Sydney is lucky too. Not only because she found her soul mate in Logan, but also because she is about to become a member of the Murdoch family. I have never seen a group of people who care so much about each other.”

  I looked at Callum, who was looking back at me with a mixture of amusement and approval in his eyes.

  “So let’s raise our glasses to this wonderful couple as we prepare to share a celebration of their commitment and love for each other. To Logan and Sydney!”

  The entire room stood, shouting their approval and toasting each other. After clinking my glass with Miranda’s and even Gwen’s, my gaze met Callum’s again. He silently raised his glass to me, a sparkle in his eyes.

  It was silly, but I really meant everything I said. They say weddings bring out the worst in people. But I felt like this one was bringing out my best, helping me to focus on things that really mattered. Things I had been missing my whole life—like friendship, family, and, yes, even love.

  The next day dawned with bright blue skies and sunshine—a good sign for the day of a wedding. The house was hopping with activity as I made my way downstairs to find coffee.

  Sydney was in the kitchen drinking a glass of Lifeblood.

  “I’m getting married today!” she said by way of greeting.

  I grinned at my friend, my excitement for her overriding my normal morning grouchiness.

  “I know!”

  She rattled off her to-do list as I filled a large mug with coffee. Sitting on a barstool at the counter, I listened to her talk about hairdressers, makeup artists, and the million other details we had to take care of.

  “Raven, what time did Miranda say she was coming over?” Syd asked suddenly. I had sort of tuned her out, so the question surprised me.

  “I think she’ll be here by eight. She’s bringing our dresses with her,” I said, anticipating the eager bride’s next question.