Call Her Mine

by Lydia Michaels

  “Hi, Dane,” Maggie said as she took a seat.

  “Hi, Maggie.”

  “How are you, Magdalene?” Adriel asked.

  Gracie suddenly stood and lifted her plate.

  “Where are you going, Grace?” Adam asked.

  “I’m sorry. I lost my appetite,” she muttered and walked away from the others.

  Awkward…

  Dane’s cheeks turned a shade darker and Maggie lowered her gaze to her plate. Adriel waved a hand and said, “We can either take what we want or cry over what we do not have, but we cannot have it both ways.”

  Maggie smiled.

  Dane scowled. “Excuse me,” he grumbled, standing from the table and walking away.

  * * * *

  Dane followed Gracie away from the others and toward the Hartzler house. She was moving faster than he was capable and it pissed him off. Friggen vampyres.

  “Gracie!”

  She ignored him and took off. In a huff, he jogged after her. When he reached the house no one was around. Everyone was still at service and would likely not be back for hours.

  Without knocking he opened the front door. The kitchen was empty. “Gracie?”

  No answer.

  He marched up the steps and ripped open her bedroom door. She gasped and turned, fire burning behind her ice blue eyes as she scowled at him. Tears tracked down her cheeks and caused his gut to clench. Damn her.

  “Get out!” she shouted and huffed.

  Rather than leave, he took another step in the room and grabbed her by the upper arms. “No. I want to talk to you.”

  She shoved him off with little effort and ample strength. “Well, I do not want to speak to you!”

  Rage boiled in his veins. She kept doing this, acting like a viper and then crying. No matter what he did she was either pissed or upset with him.

  Without thinking, he grabbed her and used all his force to turn her so she faced him. His feet shuffled across the floor and her back came up against the wall. She gasped and he kept moving until his front pressed into hers.

  “We need to talk,” he gritted.

  “No,” she said, the fierceness of her voice gone and replaced with something much more vulnerable.

  He drew back and looked at her. She shut her eyes as if trying to hide from him. Sadness overwhelmed him. She hated him.

  I don’t hate you. Her voice rung in his head.

  Her eyes remained closed. He wanted her to look at him. Her tears dried, leaving tiny tracks along her cheeks. Her little mouth pressed tight as if she were in pain. He hated seeing such tension in her face.

  Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. Her breath hitched and she drew back, her lashes fluttering as she gazed into his eyes once more.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Ignoring her quiet plea, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers once more. His body hardened as her lips slightly parted.

  “Dane—” she said softly, begging, likely for him to stop.

  He should stop. “Just…just wait…” His feet shuffled closer and he kissed her.

  She drew in a long breath through her nose, but did not touch him. Her arms remained at her sides, impassive. His fingers tightened at her shoulders as he pressed his lips firmly to hers. His mouth opened and he drew his tongue over the seam of her lips.

  He tasted her and his cock lengthened. Her teeth were clenched, smooth beneath his tongue. “Kiss me, Gracie.”

  Dane tilted his head and slid his palm over her shoulder and up the back of her neck, knocking her bonnet askew. He pulled her to him. A sound of distress vibrated from her throat, but she opened the slightest degree.

  That was all he needed. His mouth slanted and he pressed his lips over hers, forcing her to let him in. She whimpered and then the press of her dainty fingers wrapped around his elbows.

  “That’s it, Gracie,” he whispered into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.

  Sharp pain shot up his arm and he hissed, jerking away. He looked down at where she’d gripped his arm. Her nails lengthened into claws and four stains of crimson swelled in the press of each finger. Returning his gaze to hers, he scowled.

  Her lips were parted, but her teeth were clenched. Twin fangs showed where they were usually hidden. Panting quietly through clenched teeth, her eyes dilated. She was pissed.

  He stepped back and she released his arms, which only made the little stabs hurt more.

  “Get out of here,” she whispered so quietly he almost missed it. “Do you hear me?” she said with a bit more venom. “I want you to leave. This is my bedroom and you have no right being here. I am not one of your whores.”

  He winced. “Gracie—”

  “I said go!”

  He jerked. He’d never heard her raise her voice.

  “Get out! I want you to go! Do you hear me, Dane Foster? I do not want you here! You are not my friend anymore.”

  His nostrils flared. Her words hurt. He loved her and she hated him. He suddenly wanted to hurt her. “Yeah, well maybe it isn’t your friendship I’m after.”

  She gasped. Anger distorted her face and then the sadness he noted earlier returned. He regretted his words immediately.

  “You are a dog. You will lay with anything that will have you,” she whispered cruelly. “But you will never lay with me.”

  She shoved him so hard he grunted as the opposite wall slammed into his back. She was gone. Fuck.

  * * * *

  Adriel joined them for the ride home from service. Delilah enjoyed Christian’s mother, though Christian was quieter than usual around her. As he steered the horse she and Adriel spoke about various things having to do mostly with food and Delilah’s ‘odd’ diet. Adriel was helping her think of recipes that didn’t require meat.

  “I suppose you could have biscuits, but I do not see how good a biscuit is without the sausage,” Adriel noted. “How about ham. Do you eat pig?”

  “No. No pig.” It amused Delilah how foreign the concept of being a vegetarian was to them. She didn’t know if that was because they were Amish or because they were vampyres. Probably a combination of both.

  The carriage jostled and Delilah almost slid off the bench. Adriel caught her sleeve and steadied her as a car sped by. Christian turned back to face them briefly. “Are you all right? Foolish English drivers do not like to share the road. I apologize. The horse jerked.”

  Delilah nodded, a bit shaken and Adriel said, “She is fine, Christian.”

  Suddenly another car whizzed by. The horse jerked again, but this time she was prepared and remained seated. A moment later, horrible pain knifed through her head. Delilah cried out and grabbed her temples.

  “Delilah?” both Christian and his mother said at once.

  Adriel touched her arm and hissed, pulling back her fingers as though she was burned. “Christian, she’s hot.”

  She was going to be sick. So much pain. Oh, God… what was happening?

  The carriage abruptly drew to a stop and Christian was there. “Look at me, pintura. What is happening to you? Tell me what hurts.”

  “Everything,” she moaned, holding her ribs.

  “Christian, what is this? Has this happened before?” Adriel asked frantically.

  “I do not—”

  Delilah gasped and sat upright. She looked over Christian’s shoulder. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear it. Faint, tiny, agonizing. The pain became second to her sudden need to go to it. She sprung to her feet.

  “Delilah, what—”

  Unable to answer, she jumped off the carriage and ran. Her booted feet pounded over the broken gravel that dusted the road. She hoisted up her skirts and fell into a dead run. The world whooshed by her. She was moving incredibly fast. As she crested a slight hill the vehicles came into view.

  Loping down the knoll of pavement her heart raced as her eyes zeroed in on the damage. Two cars, one flipped completely over, as smoke and steam billowed from the crushed hood. A horn rang steadily over the hissing of the
engines, but nothing was louder than the fading heart beat playing in her mind. Baby.

  If possible, her pace doubled. She slammed into the first car, tipping it up with the impact of her body. Delilah regained her balance. She wasn’t sure how she managed, but she caught a quick bead of the passengers’ status. Hurt, but not mortally injured. There were two of them. They were young and both male.

  Her head snapped toward the flipped van. The beating heart was hardly recognizable over the soft hissing engine. The wheels still spun, decelerating, just as the baby’s heart did.

  Her mind cut off and her body shot into action. She leapt over the smaller car and yanked the door of the van open. Metal tore and whined. She hadn’t realized she possessed such strength. The driver whimpered. A female. Her body hung suspended from the seat. Her forehead was bloody. The scent of human blood cut through Delilah’s urgent haze and she hissed.

  “My baby. My baby. Help my baby,” the woman in the driver’s seat cried.

  Delilah looked up. The baby looked about ten months old. His car seat was buckled facing the rear of the car. It had slipped out of place and tipped. The horn continued to blare.

  Carefully, she pulled the child’s seat back. The baby’s eyes were closed and it lay motionless. Delilah’s breath beat out of her as she carefully located the anchor snaps and turned the car seat. Placing the strapped baby on the ceiling of the vehicle, which was now the floor, she gently unbuckled the harness strap. The baby was very still.

  Her fingers pressed over its chest and she detected the faintest beat of a heart. It was slowing. A shuddered breath pulled through her nostrils and Delilah wiped her eyes.

  “Oh, God, Ethan. My Ethan. Is he okay? Oh, God. Oh, God. Help him. Please help him,” the mother frantically cried.

  “Quiet,” Delilah snapped as gently as one could snap. The woman immediately silenced. The child was dying.

  Delilah tilted her head and petted the soft side of his little cherub face. “No pain,” she whispered. “No pain.”

  Lifting her curled palm to her lips, she bit into the plump curve of her thumb. The mother’s breath hitched, but she remained quiet. Delilah heard the oncoming footsteps of Christian and Adriel.

  Pintura, no! You cannot!

  She slammed down an impenetrable wall on her thoughts, blocking Christian’s intrusion into her mind. She became wholly focused on little Ethan. With absolute tenderness, she scooped the child out of the snug seat and cradled his limp little body in her arms.

  She brought her palm to his pale lips, her curled fingers soothing his soft brow. “Drink, baby.”

  The child’s mouth latched on and he pulled from her. She had no idea what she was doing, but was too concerned to truly think about the driving instinct directing the act. Something deep inside of her told her this was what the child needed. The more he pulled from her blood the stronger his heartbeat. Translucent little eyelids pinkened and fluttered and soon his blue eyes were looking up at Delilah.

  She smiled. “There’s a big, strong boy. There you go,” she cooed.

  The mother was breathing fast and she could sense her terror churning with the relief as seeing her son healed. Delilah paid her no mind.

  Pulling her hand from the baby’s mouth, she licked her wound and it sealed closed. His tiny little baby teeth poking through his gums showed red from her blood.

  She stuck out her tongue and quietly blew raspberries in the air at the little guy. He hiccupped and laughed.

  “That’s a good little man.” She smiled and rocked him, soothing away the memories of the accident.

  “Delilah!”

  She jumped at the snap of Christian’s voice. He stood in the door of the van. He was furious. Glancing to Ethan’s mother who silently cried, fear rippled off her in waves, and suddenly Delilah could hear the woman’s thoughts. Please don’t hurt him. Please. Please!

  Delilah frowned. She wasn’t going to hurt the little guy. She just saved his life. And how had she heard the woman’s thoughts? She was hysterical and falling to a place close to shock.

  “Put the mortal back, pintura.” Christian’s voice was level and cold.

  She looked into his eyes, noting the unbending censure there. Had she just violated some big vampyre law or something? Adriel remained stiffly observing to his left, eyes wide with shock.

  Okay, time to wrap up this party.

  Delilah kept her eyes on Christian as she pressed her lips into Ethan’s soft head. Christian winced and turned away. Ethan’s mother whimpered. She gently tucked the baby back in his seat sitting upright on the ceiling of the van and strapped him in.

  “Now go back to the carriage,” Christian said quietly, his tone absolute.

  She looked at him and then to the mother of the baby.

  “I will handle it, pintura. Go. Mother, take Delilah to the carriage and drive her back to the house. I will meet you there.”

  “What about the rest of them? We have to call an ambulance—” Delilah hissed.

  “I said I would handle it!”

  She jerked back at the anger in his tone, but did as he said. Brushing a soft hand over the baby’s head one last time she said goodbye and followed Adriel back to the carriage.

  She wanted to ask why Christian was so angry, but figured she should save her questions for him. Adriel handled the carriage expertly and Delilah added carriage driving to her bucket list. She wanted to know how to do that.

  When they arrived at the house the yard was flooded with animals. Cows had come from the field, kittens and barn cats lolled in puddles of sunshine on the porch. A goat ate at the shrubs surrounding Christian’s porch. Squirrels raced over the gutters and two fat gophers sat up like prairie dogs guarding the porch steps.

  “What in the world…?” Adriel whispered.

  Delilah blushed. This had something to do with her. She just knew it.

  Adriel parked the buggy and Delilah jumped down. The cow eyed her with big brown eyes as she walked past. It stunk and its tail swatted at flies as its mouth chewed a hefty swallow of grass. She ran her hand over its back and recognized the flower like splotch of brown on her back.

  “Hey, Cher, what are you doing all the way over here?”

  Cher batted her long lashes and continued to chew. Something told Delilah to look under the cow’s belly. She sucked in a breath at the sight of its one udder. It was red and irritated, maybe even infected.

  “Aw, does your booby hurt?” she said empathetically.

  Delilah squatted down and cupped the teat in her hand gently, ignoring the way Christian’s mother frowned.

  Shutting her eyes, Delilah focused. She could sense the cow’s pain. It stilled as she placed her energy into the soreness and forced it back.

  As the sense of irritation faded, Delilah swayed. She released the cow and caught her balance by pressing her palm into the cool grass. Dizziness had her wobbling.

  Next came the goat. The poor thing had an aching tooth. Bastard tried to eat Delilah’s apron, but she helped him anyway. The one barn cat was pregnant and due soon. There wasn’t anything Delilah could do for her. And some of the other animals just seemed to be hanging around.

  By the time she checked on each one she was exhausted, barely able to remain standing. She plopped into a rocker on the porch and huffed.

  “How did you know to do that?” Adriel asked quietly. The woman had been so silent watching her. Delilah had almost forgotten she was there.

  She shrugged. “Dunno. I just…can.”

  “I have never seen an immortal capable of such things. It is like a sixth sense to you. Even our healer needs the use of medicines.”

  Heat crept up Delilah’s neck. “I guess I’m sort of a freak.”

  “You are not a freak, Delilah. You are gifted. Christian needs to tell the elders of your talents. They could be of great use some day.”

  “Do immortals get sick?”

  “Not really. We possess rapid healing abilities, but there are times… There are
times that even the pain for a short period is too much.”

  She looked at Christian’s mother. Her eyes focused somewhere in the distance. Delilah followed her gaze and thought even if she saw what Adriel was looking at she wouldn’t see what the other woman was seeing.

  There was something inherently sad about Christian’s mother. She was terrified the other woman was about to confide something in her, but wasn’t sure. Either way…

  “So service was a literal pain in the ass today,” Delilah said.

  Adriel’s head snapped in her direction. She looked shocked, but then smiled and laughed. “They are quite long when Eleazar speaks. You’re lucky it was not Abraham’s turn to do the sermon. He can be quite pious.”

  “Abraham?”

  “My brother-in-law. He was married to my sister who passed some time ago. His poor daughter Abigail has to listen to him all day long.”

  “Oh…good old Abs. Yeah, we sort of met. Well, not met, but she came by. I was in the kitchen.”

  Adriel frowned. “Was Abigail not polite? I’ve never seen her be anything other than mannerly. She is a quiet child. I feel for her.”

  “If her life’s so miserable, why doesn’t she just leave? Get her own place? Christian said she’s his age. Oh man, is it because she’s a girl? The men here are so—”

  “It is because she lost her mother and her father fears losing her as well. He is very overbearing, but it is the only way he knows. He loves her. And Abigail is very good to him. I am sure she minds at times, but for the most part she does not complain. She is a sweet girl, Delilah. I believe you would like her, since you are such a sweet and accepting person yourself.”

  Tricky woman. She chuckled. “Sly, Adriel. Sly. I don’t have anything against her. At least not since I learned she’s related to your son and not some floozy trying to…well, you know.”

  Adriel smirked. “Christian adores you, Delilah. He may not always show it in the best way, but he would never pick another female over the one intended for him. Even if she weren’t his cousin, it would make no difference. Christian is an incredibly loyal male. Once he decides something, he keeps to it.”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to convince me. I’ve seen him—”