Bound by Blood (Vampire Romance)

by Tara Manderino

  Swiftly, he got out of bed and headed for his closet. The total darkness of the room didn’t hinder him in anyway. It was true he had long outgrown the need to sleep all day in order to function all night, and as long as he was guarded and avoided direct sunlight he could function throughout the day just fine. So could Carlos. It was only the youngest vampires that had any difficulty moving between the two worlds.

  Today was his day off from the office. He hesitated in taking it because they needed to solve the case; they needed to find the child. The advantage of not reporting in meant he could go where he needed to find his quarry and not make excuses to his partner or supervisor as to why he needed to work alone. Today, he also planned to learn more about Miss Lisa Mitchell. Grabbing another set of black jeans and black turtleneck, he showered and dressed before heading upstairs.

  Lisa was sitting in the kitchen. The television was silent. A quick glance in the great room showed him the throw was folded over the arm of the couch and the computer was where he had left it.

  “Good morning.”

  She whipped her head around to face him. She must have expected him to come down the stairs instead of up from the basement level. Her response was tentative.

  She stood, nervously wiping her hands down her jeans. “I’m really sorry about last night. There was no reason fro me not to go back to the Morgans.” She reached up a hand and looped a piece of hair around her ear. “I was just being silly. Um…” she waved her hand about, uncertain. “I couldn’t find your phone. I wanted to call a cab.”

  Alex smiled at her. It had been a long time since he felt any tender emotions, but he did now. She looked prickly and ready to flee when in reality what she needed was to be held close. Too bad it wouldn’t be him. He didn’t even want to think that thought.

  “Sit down,” he told her, indicating the chair she just vacated. “I left you a note. We’ll get something to eat in a moment. I eat all of my meals out so I don’t have anything here.”

  “Look,” she used her hands to indicate herself, “I just slept in these clothes. I feel super grungy and super stupid for the way I behaved. Could you just take me back? Or, I could call a cab, really.”

  Alex waved her to her seat again. “You are free to use the shower here. I can even loan you a shirt, but I’m afraid anything else simply won’t fit.” He did smile at her then as she looked at him assessingly. It was the first time she had done so that he was aware of. Rather deflating that she had never even noticed him. “Then, I will feed you and we can talk, but if you still want to go back now, we can do so.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to go back? I live there. At the Morgan’s,” she said.

  “First shower, then we’ll talk.”

  ~*~

  Less than an hour later they were seated in the local diner – of the next town.

  “Was it really necessary that we come all the way out here?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.” He stopped speaking when the waitress came for their orders. He listened with amusement as Lisa gave her a long list. He ordered coffee.

  She looked abashed after the waitress left, and leaned forward across the table, whispering. “Is that all you’re having? You must think I’m a pig.”

  Alex couldn’t help chuckling at her tone. He let his eyes wander over what parts of her anatomy he could see. “Hardly that. I can’t imagine where you put it.”

  “You’re sure it’s not too much? I can pay for my own. Insist on it.”

  “Ms. Mitchell, I never let my guests pay. Now sit back and relax. I need to go over some things.”

  “Did something happen last night?” Her voice was breathless. She raised a hand to her mouth. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Because there is nothing you could have done.” He watched as the waitress carried over Lisa’s plate. In following the waitress’s progress, he noticed a local law enforcement officer sitting at the counter.

  Using his head to indicate the direction he wanted her to look, he told her they would speak later. Instead, he helped her to relax, chatting about nothing, nor asking anything in return when she proved to be silent. There would be enough time for talking when they left.

  A short time later, they exited the diner, and headed for his car. Within moments they were headed back to the highway.

  “Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend?” she asked.

  “Some things you know,” he said dryly. “Why?”

  “I wondered why you chose to come here when Fair Oaks has a perfectly good diner, several in fact, not to mention delis. I thought maybe you were trying to avoid someone.”

  “I am,” he agreed, “but not a girlfriend. More like anyone who knows the Morgans well.”

  She shot him a look. “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t expect you would.” Quickly he told her the events of the previous night, but not the contents of the note, or Morgan’s suspicions.

  “They think I did it, don’t they?” Her voice was flat.

  He could hardly lie. “It came up.”

  “What about you? Do you think I would do such a thing?” Her voice rose an octave and she shifted in her seat to look at him. He suspected she wanted to see his reaction. There wouldn’t be one.

  “No. I know where you were.” He didn’t tell her it was entirely possible for something to be done even if the perpetuator was not present. She was too innocent to even suspect such a thing.

  She sat back in her seat. “Did you tell them I was with you—at your place?”

  “They did not need to know.” He turned onto the highway, but quickly shot off at the next exit.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Eventually, we are going to meet with an acquaintance of mine who may be able to help us with the case. For now, we are heading to a place where we can talk in peace.”

  “Here? We’re going to talk here?” she asked when they pulled up to the curb.

  From the tone of her voice it was evident she hadn’t expected them to show up in front of a church. He tried not to let his lips twitch. She didn’t even know the greater irony. He got out of the car and came around the side to open her door. “Can you think of a better place?”

  ~*~

  She didn’t answer, merely stepped out of the car when he held the door open and led her inside. Walking next to him made her feel safe. There was a sense of contained power. It didn’t matter if she had to step double time to keep up. Seeming to notice her difficulty, he slowed and smiled down at her. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but was reassuring anyway.

  Definitely a strange man, but so far, he seemed to be the only one who hadn’t found it odd she hadn’t seen much of the kidnapper; the only one who didn’t seem to suspect her. She realized he might actually do so, but he didn’t display any such manner to her. Walking beside him, she was surprised when he didn’t head up the front steps as she expected. Instead, he went around the side of the building and to a small office area. She should have realized they wouldn’t be going into the church itself. He hadn’t struck her as a religious man who was going to pray his way through the case.

  Stepping in front of her, he led the way through another set of doors. It was impossible for her not to notice the lean length of him and the animal, alert manner in which he moved. Nothing would escape his attention. She instinctively gulped in reaction, glad she wasn’t trying to hide anything.

  Finally, he stopped, and held open a door for her to enter the narrow passageway to the office. She squeezed past him, trying not to brush against his body, but that was impossible from the way he held the door.

  The room was very warm; it only took a moment to see the fire burning in the fireplace was the reason. It was uncommon for this time of year, although she had to admit it certainly kept the dampness out.

  “Have a seat,” Alex said, indicating the grouping of chairs close to the fireplace. She did as he asked, but still looked around for their host.

  “Mon
signor Phil will join us in a few moments,” he told her. His voice rolled naturally over the Italian title.

  She nodded and sat down in one of the chairs. She was relieved – of course she was – that he sat in the chair cattycorner from hers and not next to her. She could think better when he was further away. She took a deep breath. He wasn’t saying anything, yet he said they were to talk. “What did you want to know?”

  ~*~

  Alex leaned back in his chair. “Not a lot, but I would like to fill in some gaps. The Morgans seemed to know so little about you.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze, but looked down at her fingers, twining them together. He didn’t disturb her for a few seconds, waiting to see what she would say. Finally, she sighed, and seeming to come to some resolution, she met his gaze.

  If he had breath to do so, he would have sucked it in at the clear gray gaze looking back at him. He could see to her soul. And see it was a troubled one. But why? Her innocence proclaimed she would have been the victim no matter what the problem.

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “I gathered that.” He purposely kept his voice low and slow, encouraging her to continue.

  “No, you don’t understand. There was nothing to tell them.”

  “Everyone has a story, Lisa. Everyone.” Even him. Perhaps he more than most. “You did not just hatch on their doorstep, a nanny to order.”

  She smiled weakly at his comment. “It’s not a particularly exciting story. I Like working with kids; love being around them. Being a nanny is a great opportunity to nurture them and see them grow.”

  Alex nodded his head in agreement. “That’s a given. Truly wonderful nannies have had great impact on the world. ‘The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world,’ kind of thing.”

  Her shoulders relaxed marginally.

  “Why did you choose to come here? Your accent is clearly British.”

  “This seemed a nice area of the country to live in.” She sounded defensive.

  Alex waved his hand, as if pushing the trivial matters aside. “Lisa, you are much too intelligent not to answer the questions I’m asking. Giving me the standard answers, probably the answers you gave to the agency you hired through or the Morgans is not going to get us anywhere.”

  She looked at him warily. “They’re the truth.”

  “Are they indeed? Then why do you not tell me why you choose to nurture someone else’s child instead of your own? Why are you here, by all accounts, spending time only with Cassandra and not dating or meeting men you could marry, have a child with? Those are the questions that need answers.” They really didn’t need an answer, certainly were not relevant to the case if he believed she had nothing to do with Cassandra’s disappearance, but he wanted to know; needed to know.

  She wore a stunned look, as if he had physically slapped her, and shrank back in her seat. “None of that matters.”

  It was necessary for her to tell him she hadn’t taken Cassandra for her own child. In one motion he managed to stand and practically loom over her in the chair before she had a chance to move. He braced his hands on the arms of the chair, locking her in. “If it doesn’t matter, there is a reason. What is it?”

  “It has nothing to do with this case,” she assured him.

  “It very well could. What if your last lover decided he wanted to reconcile with you? What if the only way he could get to you is through this child?” He wanted to say my child, but she really wasn’t. Nor could he believe how difficult it was to speak of her having a lover. It nearly choked him to get the words out. Certainly not the reaction he should be having while on a case, and definitely not with a mortal, and not with this woman.

  She was shaking her head before he finished the first sentence and continued shaking it until he finished. He was forced to rest his weight on one hand and use the other to grasp her chin, making her look at him.

  “What part does not have merit?”

  She put her hand up to his, as if to force it away, but left it where it rested. Her skin was cool in spite of the fire, but still felt warm to him. He eased his grip fractionally.

  “It all is plausible,” she told him, “but none of it is true. “I don’t have a lover now. I haven’t.”

  He released her chin. That didn’t sound right, but he was relieved nonetheless. She had to have at some time. That was one thing that seemed to be a given in this century; these decades. Earlier times there was a clearer division among the different types of women. Regardless, her eyes couldn’t disguise the hurt, the disappointment she suffered somewhere along the line.

  “Tell me.”

  Chapter 8

  His voice whispered across her nerve endings. This close she could see the streaks of dark gray in his blue eyes. They were brilliant, not dull as she would have expected. Until now she would have said blue eyes were insipid. At this moment she found them utterly compelling. She wanted to tell him, wanted to tell someone the hurt she had experienced. Which was ridiculous. It was far in the past. Besides, she didn’t know this man. He was a detective working on a case, and she was someone who held a clue, small as it was.

  She looked away for a moment, then gathering her resolve looked him in the eye. She didn’t matter to him, so whatever she would say would be the same as a stranger in the park; a voice over the phone.

  “It’s not a new story,” she told him, hiking her shoulder up. Not so much a shrug as it was defense. She wished she could hide behind it. But she had held her head down too long.

  “I got pregnant at too early an age,” she said. “Sixteen,” she tacked on before he could ask.

  He leaned back, and she wasn’t sure if it was to give her breathing room or he was repelled by what she had said.

  “I wasn’t married, and the baby’s father didn’t see any need for us to marry.”

  “That is not exactly a crime,” Alex said. “It’s not the best story, but not unusual.” His voice grew unexpectedly husky.

  Lisa dropped her gaze, and let her fingers pleat the end of her sweater. “It is when you’re the vicar’s daughter.”

  Alex stood, but rather than moving away as she expected, he moved closer and sat on the edge of the armchair. He stretched out his arm and put one hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently, offering consolation, before letting it drop. It was as if he had some idea of what she had gone through.

  “That would be difficult for your father.” His eyes held compassion. Was it his cop training, or had he been through similar treatment?

  “You have no idea,” she scoffed. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  She didn’t look at him. “He threw me out of the house. The…the things he said. I could not believe he was a man of God saying them, not to me.” She covered her face with her hands for a moment, waiting for the stab of resentment to pass. She thought she was long over it. “There was no forgiveness.”

  Alex reached across the small space separating the chairs and caressed her head. She hadn’t let anyone get this close to her in years. She knew he was soothing her, doing his job, but it felt right. With this kidnapping, she felt more vulnerable than she had in ages. She needed to lean on someone, and Alex was proving willing.

  “My mother agreed with him.” She moved her hands and looked at him then. His hand still held the back of her head, but she faced him now. “That hurt almost more. I could almost… almost understand my father, but my mother?”

  “Sometimes parents do have to stick together,” he told her in a flat voice.

  “It was more than that. She was even harsher than my father. Bad enough he told me to leave, she told me never to come back. She said other things too, but I... I can’t repeat them, not even now.”

  He let his hand drop. “Lisa, life is too short. She may have said what she did in the heat of the moment. It would be best for you to go back, to make amends while you can.”

  She gave him a half smile. “You think I haven’t tried?” She shook her head. “I went back a year or two after it
happened, she refused to see me.” She bit her lip.

  “There’s more?”

  “Not really much. I told you the father refused to marry. I’m grateful in a way. I loved him, or thought I did, but not the way I thought of really loving someone I wanted to spend my life with.” She couldn’t meet his eyes on that one. It was something too intimate to share with anyone, even or especially, with a stranger.

  “That might explain why you are here, but why have you become a nanny with plans to remain as such.”

  “The other part was that I lost the baby.”

  “You are young enough to have another,” he told her levelly. He spoke as though this was a real possibility. She knew differently.

  This time her smile was sad. “I’m young enough,” she agreed, “but the whole birthing process was wrong. The doctor said I should never had gotten pregnant to begin with, wasn’t sure how my body actually did. But since I had, I just wasn’t made for carrying the child. The surgery afterward assured I would not have any children.”

  “That was your choice?” He sounded as if he couldn’t fathom such a thing.

  “That was Mother Nature’s choice. I didn’t have any say in it.” She shifted in the seat, shrugging as she sat up, putting a minute amount of space between them. She told herself she had gotten over it a long time ago. “Since I can’t have my own children, and I’m not really in the position to adopt one, I decided being a nanny would be the next best thing. I love being with Sandy.”

  “I don’t doubt you do. He moved away from her at the sound of approaching footsteps, but touched her arm lightly assuring he had her attention. “We haven’t finished this discussion,” he said softly.

  “Alex!” the man greeted him when he walked into the room, hands outstretched.

  Lisa wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this vibrant man whose radiating energy belied his sixty-odd years.