Don't Talk Back To Your Vampire

by Michele Bardsley

  “I know. Nefertiti captured his sister. She died at a death camp.”

  “She also killed his pregnant wife.”

  “That’s horrible!” I wondered why Damian hadn’t told me. Obviously, he’d erected the psychic barrier to keep me from that information.

  “Maria was six months pregnant with twins. When Nefertiti and her squad raided the village, Maria fought fiercely. Nefertiti herself wielded the blade that robbed Maria of her children, then of her life.”

  I felt sick. “Damian told me that his species was dying out. He also said that the pure lycanthropes weren’t allowed to mate with the Roma.”

  “Maria was a royal Roma, and Damian was a royal lycan. The marriage was one of love, but also promised a new beginning for lycans. The hope was that they would propagate both species of lycans.”

  “Then he issued the ban?”

  “When he discovered his slain wife, he saw that his unborn children were mutated. Had they gone to term, they would not have survived the birth. So he decreed that no pureblood would mate with Roma.”

  “I feel scared,” I admitted. “If anyone could find Nefertiti, I could. Too many people want to get their hands on her for me to feel safe.”

  “I will see to your and Tamara’s protection.” He hugged me. “No one will harm you, Eva. I swear it.”

  I dreamed of the tower. Like the time before, I escaped the growling dangers tracking me in the dark woods. I pressed the golden rose etched on the black stone to get inside and I followed the blue orbs to the top of the stairs.

  I knew what awaited me in the four-poster. All the same, I drew back the shimmery curtains.

  “Your fate is sealed,” the wolf said, baring his sharp fangs. “You cannot escape me.”

  He leapt toward me, his maw opened toward my throat.

  “Stay!” I screamed.

  The wolf was flung to the bed and he cowered there, whining as though I had struck him.

  “Remember this,” I said. “I choose my own fate.”

  The wolf disappeared in a puff of black smoke. In his place was a single gold rose.

  Chapter 13

  When I awoke in the hospital basement, I felt bereft. That damned dream! I didn’t feel like that snarling creature belonged in my tower. I was glad to vanquish him. I was still searching for the one beautiful thing that would complete me. I thought of the gold rose. The symbolism couldn’t be plainer: Gold rose equaled Lorcan.

  I rolled off the cot and stretched. Whew. I couldn’t wait to take a shower and change clothes. But first I would visit Tamara. Then I would call Alison for my pint. Oh, wait. No cell phone. I wondered if Lorcan had found my backpack.

  I took the stairs to the third floor. As I eased out of the door, I found Charlie standing in the hallway waiting for me.

  “Oh, hey,” I said. After our last feeding experience together, I was still feeling awkward. “How are you?”

  “I wanted to apologize, Eva. I don’t know what happened. I would never hurt you or . . . Please, I’m really sorry.” He gaze flicked to the gold rose pinned on my shirt. “I see you have a better one.” Blushing, he handed me a white rose, which I accepted. I pushed away my uneasiness and smiled at him. This was Charlie— he was as harmless as a puppy. I was hungry, he was my donor, so what was the issue? I pointed at an empty room. “Is in there okay?”

  The grin split his face. He eagerly entered the room and I followed, shutting the door behind us to ensure privacy.

  I felt dizzy with hunger and more than ready to sink my fangs into Charlie’s artery.

  He waited for me on the hospital bed nearest the window. He’d turned on the light above the raised bed, but the rest of the place remained in the dark. I also noticed he’d opened the window. Charlie was prone to feeling claustrophobic even in a large space. I wasn’t surprised he wanted to feel the slight breeze.

  I sat next to him, laying the rose on the bed.

  “I’m really sorry about Tamara. She’s a nice kid.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Charlie.”

  He leaned over and tapped his exposed neck. “I know you’re hungry,” he said. “If you need to take a little more than usual, that’s okay.”

  “Thanks.” The first few moments with a donor were always awkward for me. They knew the score—they were voluntary vampire food. They received excellent compensation for being our sustenance. All the same, it wasn’t a profession for everyone. At least donors had a choice about whether or not to give blood. Vampires had no choice at all—either we drank blood or we starved to death.

  I was starving now, so I wasted no time, holding on to his shoulders and sinking my fangs in. I drank deeply and though I had learned when to stop, I took Charlie up on his offer to enjoy a little more. Finally, I drew away, wiping off the blood spots from his neck. Thanks to the anesthetic injected from vampire fangs and the healing properties of vampire saliva, donors rarely felt pain and nearly always healed instantly.

  “Thanks, Charlie.” I licked my lips as my fangs receded. “Did you try a new diet? You tasted kinda . . . tangy.”

  He slid off the bed, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry, Eva.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for what you eat.” I smiled. “I don’t apologize for what I eat.”

  Dizziness assailed me. I rubbed my temples as the world tilted. What the heck?

  “Charlie . . . what’s . . . happening?”

  “It’s okay,” he reassured me. “Because you’re mine. He told me so. You’ll be okay, Eva. Then we can be together.”

  He wasn’t making sense. My vision grayed as I watched Charlie fade back into the shadows. I fell sideways onto the bed, unable to feel my arms or legs.

  The last thing I remembered was two piercing red eyes staring at me from the open window.

  “Eva?”

  I heard the voice from very, very far away. I struggled toward the sound of my name. It felt as though metal liquid surrounded me, heavy yet buoyant. Weird. I wanted to swim toward the person calling me, but I couldn’t lift my eyelids, much less my arms.

  Aren’t you tired? You deserve a rest.

  I stopped struggling and listened to the new voice.

  “Evangeline.” Lorcan again. Soft and sweet.

  I didn’t know which way to turn. I couldn’t reach the Irish-tinged voice that said my name so tenderly. Oh, I wanted to go to him desperately. Lorcan.

  Tsk. Tsk. So many worries, so many cares.

  Where should I go? What should I do?

  You’re exactly where you need to be.

  “Where are you, love?” I heard Lorcan again. I could almost feel him reach me, his long, pale fingers stretching toward mine. He sounded insistent and I could feel his worry. Yet it was too difficult to think, to hold on.

  Ssshh. It’s okay. Just . . . let . . . go.

  Comforted by the other voice, I turned away from Lorcan and let the odd ocean carry me away.

  “We don’t have much time.”

  I recognized the voice. Yes, he had told me it was okay to let go. Reassurance whispered through me. Sweet Eva. It’s okay. It’s all right. Lord-a-mercy, I felt sleepy. I managed to open my eyes, but I couldn’t quite focus on the faces hovering over mine.

  “We must hurry.”

  “Are you sure this is the wisest course of action, mein Freund?”

  “Don’t question me, Otto.”

  Soft, warm flesh pressed against my lips and blood seeped into my mouth. I didn’t really want to drink, but reflex kicked in and I did.

  “Very good, Eva. Very good.”

  The blood tasted strange; I gagged.

  “Ssshh. Almost done. There now.”

  The kind voice soothed me and when I was finished drinking, I drifted away once again.

  The warrior’s cry woke me.

  My body flopped onto a hard, bumpy surface and rolled until I smacked something very big and scratchy.

  I couldn’t quite fathom where I was or what had happened to me. My eyes ref
used to open and my head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton, soaked in alcohol, and set on fire.

  Charlie. Whatever substance he’d put into his bloodstream was meant to sedate me. Betrayal settled like a cold, hard lump in my stomach. Oh, Charlie! How could you? More important, why would he dope himself in order to dope me? What about that encounter with the strange men hovering over me? Had I only dreamed it?

  Sounds of fighting penetrated my fogged senses: grunts and growls, metal on metal, feminine shouts. As I shook off the mental ickiness, I realized my hands were bound in front of me.

  This night just kept getting better and better.

  Though it just about killed me to do it, I managed to pry open my eyelids.

  At first, I could see nothing but shadowy objects in the dark. But my nose was working just fine. The dank smell of earth, the crisp sting of pine needles, and the acrid odor of smoke filled my nostrils. Then, as my vamp vision cleared, I could see a glade. In the middle of it was a low-burning fire and scattered all over the place were implements used for camping.

  At the far edge of the campfire, I could make out Durriken and a silver-haired man fighting two vampires I didn’t recognize. Their eyes glowed red and their fangs looked sharp and scary. To the left of that melee, a dark-haired woman wielded a frying pan like it was Excalibur; she was shouting in an unknown language as she smacked a very large black wolf about the head and shoulders. Lucky? I couldn’t be sure.

  My injuries were healing even as I rolled onto my side and scrabbled to my knees, but I still felt bruised and sore from head to toe. I didn’t know how I’d ended up bound and thrown on the ground, but I was semi-free now. I leaned against the tree that had arrested my fall and hoisted myself to my feet.

  Regular rope bound my hands, so it took only a little pulling to break the hemp and toss it to the ground. Then I staggered toward the fighting Roma, still feeling groggy.

  I arrived at the edge of the clearing in time to see the older man swing his odd weapon at the vampire’s neck. The gleaming blade went through skin and bone as easily as a hot knife through a stick of butter.

  Oh, yuck! My gorge rose as I watched the head bounce onto the ground and roll toward me. Its surprised expression was the last thing I saw before it—and the body—burst into ash.

  After watching his companion literally bite the dust, the vampire fighting Durriken spun around and fled. The boy, looking sweaty and triumphant, turned with the older gentleman toward the woman and the wolf.

  As far as I could tell, he was trying to protect himself while the woman bashed at him. He dodged and leapt, yowling pitifully. The woman reminded me of an angry bee buzzing around a limp flower. I couldn’t understand her words, but I guessed their gist.

  Unbelievably tired, I stumbled toward them. Durriken saw me first. He hurried to me, grabbing me around the waist just as I went down. What was wrong? I couldn’t shake off whatever Charlie had slipped me in his blood.

  “Tell her to stop,” I whispered as I leaned heavily on the boy. “Please.”

  “Mama!” shouted Durriken. He added a few other words and his mother, though obviously displeased, backed away from the beast.

  “Take me to him.” I felt as though I was going to black out again.

  The man, who I assumed was Durriken’s father, put down his blade and grabbed me from the other side. They took me as far as they dared.

  Lucky. He always seemed to show up when I needed him. Had he tried to save me again, only to stumble upon the Roma camp?

  He looked at me and whined. Familiar, those eyes. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

  Thank you. I felt my mind gray; darkness edged my consciousness. Lucky . . .

  He barked and edged closer.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I begged the woman, who stared at me with dark, suspicious eyes. “Please . . .”

  “I do not trust gadjikane,” she said sharply. “You are not Roma.”

  “I am a mother.” I smiled weakly. “Keep him . . . safe.”

  “Hmph!” she said. “And where do we keep you?”

  I didn’t have a chance to answer the question. As darkness consumed me utterly, I saw Lucky turn away and lope into the trees.

  I fell softly into the opaque chasm.

  Chapter 14

  “She lives!” crowed Jessica as my eyes fluttered open. She leaned over my prone body and grinned. I couldn’t stretch my lips to form an answering smile. Thirst clawed at me. My throat was so dry I could barely swallow.

  As she straightened, I saw Patrick standing behind her, to the left.

  “Where am I?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “The short version: You were knocked out, kidnapped, rescued, and you passed out. Durriken came to the hospital and got us. We brought you here.” Jessica gestured around the room. “This is one of the zillion rooms on the second floor of our house. You slept straight through the rest of the night and the day.”

  So it was the next evening. What had Charlie ingested that had managed to drug me so thoroughly and yet not affect him? Or had the drug affected him? “How’s Tamara?”

  “Right as rain, babe. Dr. Merrick gave her the thumbs-up and released her.”

  I nodded. “And Lucky? I mean, the wolf?”

  Patrick and Jessica exchanged a look. “Helene—Durriken’s mom—said he disappeared. She said he was the biggest wolf she’d ever seen. She didn’t think he was Roma or lycanthrope.”

  Disappointment shot through me. I hoped he was okay. He hadn’t responded to my mental telepathy. But he had responded to my emotions. And he had tried to rescue me.

  “Jess, I’m really thirsty.”

  Once again, I found myself drinking from Jessica’s wrist. When I was done, I grinned. “Champagne truffles?”

  “Her favorite,” said Patrick, chuckling. He stepped closer. His gaze was kind. “It appears Charlie ingested phenobarbital in large enough quantities to disable you. We think he took the pills just before he entered the hospital to feed you.”

  “Phenobarbital? That’s a little nineteen sixties, isn’t it?”

  Jessica shrugged. “We found a pill bottle tossed in the bushes outside of the entrance. Stan said something about enzyme induction. Basically, the guy metabolizes chemicals really fast. We don’t know why he did it and we can’t ask his sorry ass because he’s gone.”

  I nodded. Charlie had drugged me, then run away. Was he in cahoots with the Wraiths? Or had he hooked up with the rogue vamp lycans? Or was it all one group of crazy people?

  “Who’s manning the library?” I asked.

  “Tamara is showing Ralph the ropes so he can take over your duties for a while.”

  “A while? As in: longer than a few hours?”

  “As in: longer than a few days,” said Jessica. “We have to protect you and Tamara.”

  “You are very valuable,” added Patrick. “The mansion is nearly as secure as the compound and it is far more comfortable.”

  “You’re saying that as a pet psychic, I’m in demand?” I tried to make it into a joke, but my voice cracked. I hadn’t quite come to grips with the idea that I was in danger.

  “Since only you and Koschei have the ability, then yes. You are very much in demand,” said Patrick.

  “You won’t be safe until we find those Wraith bastards,” groused Jessica. “That’s why Damian and one of his teams are at the library watching Tamara. They’ll escort her back to the house.”

  I was glad to know that Tamara was being protected, but I was still confused about why anyone would want to harm either me or Tamara. I was sure a mistake had been made. The idea of being away from the library, from my home, from the life I’d built as a human and then as a vampire disturbed me even more than being drugged and kidnapped.

  “We think Ron and his idiots are skulking around town,” answered Jess. “And we think he knows you can talk to the animals.” She snickered as she hummed the theme song to the Rex Harrison version of Dr. Doolittle.

  “V
ery funny, Jess.” I rolled my eyes. “What am I supposed to do around here?”

  “Housework?” suggested Jessica with a wide grin. Then she patted my hand. “Sorry, sweets. I know you’ll miss your books, but Lor’s taken over this wing of the house and he has more books than the library of Alexandria. In fact, I think he has books from the library of Alexandria. Besides, I’ve got a project for you.”

  Lor was a bigger bibliophile than I was. Although getting my hands on Lor’s book collection appealed to me, I shuddered to think what kind of project Jessica had in mind. “I told you that sharp knives make me nervous. No more sword lessons.”

  “Can I help how slippery pure fairy gold is? I said I was sorry.”

  During my first and last lesson with Jessica’s Ruadan swords, she had accidentally pinned me to a tree by my shoulder. Good thing vampires healed fast.

  “What I have in mind doesn’t involve pointy objects, okay?” Jessica grinned.

  That wide smile and too innocent gaze made me really nervous.

  “Quit torturing me,” I said as I sat up. “What nefarious plan have you cooked up, Jess?”

  Jessica’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I want you to be Broken Heart’s new school-teacher.”

  My mind instantly spun with the possibilities— lessons and field trips and—wait a minute. “I can’t.”

  Her excitement dimmed. “Why the hell not?”

  “I don’t have a degree. Not even a GED. I’m not qualified.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Who gives a shit about that? You’re smart, you’re enthusiastic, and you’re a vampire. We won’t have to bring in anyone from outside or try to glamour some poor human. You already do the Shakespeare Club for the teens, and you created that story program just for Ralph’s twins. Plus, you know what a freaking centurion is and you say Latin words like they’re fun. Let’s not forget that I caught you reading the dictionary. Nobody reads the dictionary.”

  “Lor does,” interjected Patrick.

  “Okay, nobody except Eva and Lor read the dictionary.”

  “Jessica, I’m really not qualified.” I couldn’t believe how badly I suddenly wanted the job. Teaching the kids of Broken Heart would be nearly as wonderful as discovering Shakespeare’s lost plays. I could create different curriculums—one for high school, one for elementary, one for preschool. We could do grade ranges instead of forcing the kids into specific grades. I swallowed the sigh. I hadn’t known I could want something more than what I already had. My life was full of blessings. Still . . . Looking at the patchwork quilt that covered me, I shook my head.