She didn’t see herself that way, but whatever. If he did, that was all that mattered. “I think you’re beautiful too, Christian—with or without piercings. I just thought it would be fun.”
He was silent for a moment. “Should I sit here?”
Her mouth curved. She nodded and bit into her lower lip. Good times! Corrupting the Amish elder!
He sat in the chair they’d had sex on only a week ago and deliberately undid his shirt. She watched as he unveiled one abdominal muscle then the next, and the next, and they just kept coming. He was the most perfect man she had ever laid eyes on.
She swallowed. “Good.” Her voice had become little more than a whisper.
She moved to the box of latex gloves and stilled. This was her mate. They shared blood. He was immortal. Ignoring the gloves she went to the counter and unpackaged the needle, selecting a medium gage barbell.
Christian studied her as she held up the piece. Once she had everything ready she stepped close. “Ready?”
His gaze never left her face. He nodded. Leaning over the arm of the chair, she sucked one flat nipple into her mouth. He moaned and his back arched. She sucked until the tip pulled into a tight point. Standing back she admired her work.
Christian was breathing heavily and watching her. She glanced at his lap and saw he was growing aroused. His hands gripped the arms of the chair. She grabbed her pen and marked two dots then lined up his flesh with the tip of the needle. She pressed the needle through, following with the barbell.
Breath rushed through Christian’s teeth, but he didn’t twitch or vocalize a sound.
“Mmmm,” Delilah purred, screwing on the ball and admiring her work.
She traced a finger down his hard stomach and his muscles twitched. “Should I do the other one?”
He nodded intently.
She opened another sterile needle and barbell. Repeating the process of getting his nipple hard didn’t take much work. He was highly aroused and she realized she could actually scent the strong musk of his arousal filling the room. It was affecting her very much.
Lining up the needle she punched the tip through his nipple. Again, he didn’t flinch. He was breathing hard and his eyes were dilated. She placed the remaining items on the silver tray and gave his nipple a flick.
Christian’s hand shot out and gripped her by the back of the head. He pulled her down to him roughly and sealed his mouth over hers. He stole her breath as his tongue seared past her lips and plunged into her mouth. Her fingers curled under the open hem of his shirt and around his waist.
The bell from the front door tinkled and they stilled. He hesitantly eased his grip in her hair. She leaned back.
“That’s my client,” she whispered.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I need…” His breath beat across her lips. “I need to pull myself together.”
She nodded and slowly climbed down from where she was hanging over him. Her breasts were heavy and her nipples pressed like twin darts through the thin fabric of her dress. She took a deep breath and tried to cool her cheeks. “This shouldn’t take long.”
She cleared her throat and left Christian to dress. In the front of the shop her client waited with his back to her as he eyed the partially packed boxes by the door.
“Mr. Maddox?”
He turned. Mr. Maddox was a very handsome man. He was tall and had long wavy brown hair to his shoulders. There was something intense about him. His body already showed markings of some work and she was sad she would never have the chance to see all of his ink. He was a big male, but in a truly model sense. His eyes were sharp and a vibrant shade of blue that bordered on almost being violet.
“Ms. Starling. I see you weren’t kidding about moving.”
“No. I apologize again for having to cancel on you. I didn’t expect my life to take the turn it’s taken in the last few days.”
His head tilted slightly and he breathed in a slow breath through his nose. His brow twitched. “Indeed.”
“I, uh, have a check for you. I just didn’t know who to make it out to.”
She moved to the register and pulled out her checkbook, finding the partially filled out check and a pen, she looked to him for instruction.
His expression was pleasant, but his eyes slightly narrowed. “You may make the check out to Cerberus Maddox the sixth.”
“That’s a mouthful,” she said. “You’re gonna have to spell that for me.”
“Cer is just fine. C-E-R.”
She endorsed the check and tore it from the book. Her neck prickled as she felt Christian step into the room.
Something sent a chill down her spine and she frowned. Mr. Maddox stepped forward and took the check from her hand slowly, his fingers gently brushing with hers. Christian growled and took a threatening step forward.
Mr. Maddox chuckled and pulled his hand back. “Friend of yours?” he inquired, jerking his chin toward Christian who had placed a possessive hand around her hip.
Why don’t you just pee around my shoes?
Make him leave, pintura.
Don’t be rude.
“This is my friend Christian Schrock,” she introduced.
Mr. Maddox’s brow lifted. “Schrock? That’s a name you do not hear often around these parts.”
“He’s from Lancaster.” She winced as Christian’s hand tightened almost to the point of pain on her hip. Ooooooouuuuch.
She knew he heard her warning thought when he relaxed his grip.
The man looked at Christian for a long moment. Christian stiffened and took a jerking step back. What the fuck was going on?
“I think it is time for you to leave, Mr. Maddox,” Christian said with an edge to his voice she never heard him use before.
“Indeed. I believe you’re right, Christian.” Mr. Maddox nodded to her. “It was a…pleasure doing business with you Ms. Starling. I have no doubt our paths will cross again.” And with that he turned and left.
Delilah turned on Christian. “What the hell was that?”
“Did you not sense it?”
“Sense what? You hurt my hip, Christian.”
His vision seemed to clear, his scowl replaced with concern. “I am sorry, Delilah. I didn’t mean to. He was…one of us.”
“What?”
“You’re client. He was immortal.”
Her mouth opened to tell him that was ridiculous, but then she stilled. “Are you serious? But he wasn’t Amish.”
“I told you, all immortals are not Amish.”
“Well, how come his tattoos aren’t faded?”
He frowned. “We must go, Delilah. We need to finish here.” He turned and began packing up more of her things.
She frowned. “Do you think he gets them touched up every now and again?”
“Delilah,” Christian snapped and she jumped. “We need to leave this place. Please, start packing.”
She gave him a snide look. “Fine, Bossy Pants. I was just wondering.”
They had the shop packed up by nightfall. It was amazing how much faster her life broke down compared to the time it took to build it up to where she thought she wanted it to be.
Christian remained quiet for the remainder of the packing. She caught him scowling a lot and wondered what had set him off about Mr. Maddox.
She was intrigued that she had come across another vampyre before Christian. She wondered if Mr. Maddox could tell she and Christian were like him. Did he notice she was immortal now, but she wasn’t when he had his consultation? Maybe there was some sort of scent that had attracted him, like a cat in heat, since she was supposedly a called mate.
There were so many questions, but Christian didn’t look like he’d be giving up any answers any time soon. When they returned to her apartment Delilah ordered Chinese food, two spring rolls for her a sampler platter for Christian.
He still wasn’t acting himself and she wondered, if Mr. Maddox had been a woman, if Christian would’ve taken his presence so badly. Christian told her from the
beginning that he was possessive and didn’t favor her talking to other male vampyres, but how was she to know Mr. Maddox was a vampyre? He looked like every other drop dead gorgeous man she had ever seen.
“Is Brad Pitt a vampyre?” she blurted as she nibbled at her spring roll.
“Who?”
“Brad Pitt.”
“I do not know this man.”
That was a pity. How cool would it be if Christian were friends with someone like Brad? She thought about Tom Cruise and his role as Lestat. Clever casting? I think not! And what about Matt Damon? He was a hottie too. “Are there vampyres in Boston?” That was where Matt was from, right?
Christian frowned. “I believe there are immortals on every continent and in every major city.”
“Sounds like a credit card commercial. They’re everywhere you want to be…”
His frown deepened. “You do not want to be anywhere near other immortals, Delilah. They are not like those you have met on the farm.”
She blew out a breath. “I was just curious.”
His face softened. “I’m sorry. I have been…distracted. What is it you would like to know?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Who’s the oldest vampyre?”
“I have no idea. Vampyres date back as long as mortals.”
“So you guys don’t have, like, an Adam and Eve?”
“We do not separate ourselves from humanity the way legend assumes we do. Our people refer to the lesson of Adam and Eve same as mortals do.”
“What about Hollywood? Do you think there’s a lot of vampyres there?”
“Is Hollywood a town?”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Christian. Pick up a pop culture book.”
He shrugged. “How am I to know of things that do not involve me? I do not expect you to understand Amish culture without experiencing it.”
“No, but you sure expect me to learn. How about you learn some English stuff.”
“I do not see the point.”
Her lips pressed tight. “How about because I’m your mate and it’s important to me? I feel like we only talk about what’s supposed to happen and we never learn anything about each other’s pasts. I want to know who you are, Christian. You’ve been around for almost three centuries. There has to be more to you than just a simple Amish farmer. And I want you to know about me too.”
He seemed ready to say something but thought better of it. Looking at his plate he exhaled irritably. “How is one supposed to eat rice with sticks?”
She laughed. “It’s all part of the experience. Do you want a spoon?” He nodded and she went to the kitchen to find him something to eat his rice with.
Once Christian managed a few bites, he continued. “It wasn’t until the 1740’s that we had truly settled into our culture. I was young, a boy, but my mother pressed into me the importance of being able to hold my own with the other males. I was to represent the Schrock line and I was to be a male of worth and honor.
“I liked our new home. I find it difficult to recall much of Europe or anything from the voyage here. I remember being cold and frightened. The bishop was like a father to me in many ways, demanding I get the same respect as any other youth, regardless of my bastard station.
“They told me my father died, but I knew that wasn’t the truth of it. I often saw my mother upset. She never cried in front of me, but I would catch her appearing shaky. Eleazar would often come to comfort her in such moments. There was a time where I suspected they were lovers, but I have since dismissed such ideas. They are friends and the bishop seems the one keeper of my mother’s secrets. He has held them for a very long time and I respect him for that.”
Christian’s eyes focused on a spot just past her shoulder. He seemed to be seeing things from a time long ago. “Was your father your mother’s mate?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t think he is dead?”
“I know he isn’t. He fathered Dane twenty years ago and his sister Cybil sixteen years ago.”
“You could find him, Christian. There are computer programs and the Internet—”
“I do not wish to find a sire who abandoned me.”
“But I thought your mom left him.”
He drew in a deep breath. “That is the way I have come to understand it, yes. I love my mother, Delilah. The mention of anything concerning my father…upsets her. My loyalty is to the woman who raised me. She showed me how to be the best man I could be. You may not see my value, but on the farm I am considered a male of my word.”
“I believe you are a man of your word,” she said softly. “My issue isn’t with the truth behind your words. It’s with your stubbornness.”
He nodded. “I am working to be more agreeable. You help me see that I am not always right, that there are varying levels of right and wrong. I want to be a fair mate, Delilah. Although my methods are not always that of an English standard, I have my reasons for being firm. It is because of the things I have seen over the years that I am so.”
She placed her hand over his. “I’m glad you’re willing to try. Truly, Christian, I don’t want to do this alone. I want us to make this mate thing work.”
His hand turned and enveloped hers. He squeezed her fingers affectionately. “Me too, pintura.”
She picked up a fortune cookie and cracked it open. He who throws dirt is losing ground. Whatever. “Continue with your story.”
He sat back and brushed palms over the lap of his pants. “There was a man called William Penn. We settled in his colony and were a welcomed group. Settlers often feared the trouble budding in Europe coming to play in North America, but our belief was that we found a private utopia. Our order was even farther removed from the other Amish orders in the area.
“The natives were drawn into these European conflicts, believing many of us settlers had stolen their land. The French urged them to attack. You may have heard of the French and Indian wars when in school. There were raids and innocents were taken captive. I was a young man, not yet in my twenties, but I felt we should intervene. We were stronger than mortals, no matter what side they fought for. However, it is not the Amish way to interfere. We do not believe in violence for any cause.”
She settled into her seat, drawing up her legs and resting her cheek on her knees. Christian continued.
“It seemed a unanimous decision for the Amish not to take part in the ongoing hostilities of the war. One evening, the animals were restless. Dogs barked from the neighboring farms. I was not the only one who sensed danger. We took the females to the Safe House and put them in the basement while the males stood guard, anxiously waiting for whatever was coming.
“It was mid-September. The night was silent. As immortals, when we are together, our gifts tend to feed off one another’s. The cool evening air pulsed with expectation. And then we heard a shot. We do not keep firearms on the farm, but mortal neighbors possessed hunting rifles. It was obvious there was an intruder nearby and I waited to hear defensive shots ring out. But there were none.
“The acrid scent of fire seeped through the open windows from across several acres of land. Voices carried, perhaps only to our immortal ears, but we heard the screaming all the same. The females began to panic, unsure what was happening. We needed to protect our own, knowing, as immortals, we were not in any true danger. I wanted to help our neighbors, but the risk of exposure was too great and we were told to wait silently.”
His voice was soft, but his eyes were turbulent. She wondered if certain memories, no matter how old, always remained freshly preserved in some minds.
That’s how Delilah felt when she remembered coming home to find her grandmother. She could still taste the fear on her tongue that choked her that day as she touched her grandmother’s cold hand, realizing she would never see her Nan smile again.
“By dawn, the sound of warriors rushing over the fields played through the fading black air. They were mostly natives and some French. The scent of smoke became so thick phantom coughs ech
oed through the dark. Eleazar said he could see tall flames licking at the trees over the knoll, where our neighbors’ home rested.”
Christian’s expression grew pained. His voice broke. “The family escaped. They used cider to hold off the flames from where they hid in the basement. Once the natives retreated as dawn gave away their presence, the family supposedly climbed from a small cellar window. One boy was injured, shot by the intruders. They ran and hid, but there was still danger afoot.
“I heard the neighboring orders waking. There is a gentle tremble to the earth you will soon discover, upon the farm each morning, just before dawn. That is the world coming awake. The other orders smelled the smoke and heard the screams and ventured into the nearby woods to see what was happening.”
He swallowed and turned away. Delilah could barely make out the rasp his voice had become. “We are taught not to defend ourselves, to provide evil with the other cheek after evil smites one. No one interfered. There were once nothing but Amish farms surrounding the mountains, and not a single male went to help that innocent family. Not even us.”
Delilah’s throat was dry. Her chest tightened. She knew there was more.
“The natives had captured the son, the daughter, and mother while they tried to escape. They were scalped and murdered, innocent blood shed in misled hate. The eldest son escaped, but was soon captured. He was held captive with his father, who advised him to submit gracefully to their fate. Everything we Amish do and believe is based on the fate we believe God has chosen for us. Yet, it is only our immortal callings that validate such faith in the Lord. It amazes me, the unquestioning devotion I have witnessed through the years from mortal orders. I am not surprised how much the practice has fallen in the past century, when they do not hear God’s call as we do.”
He sipped his water. “They walked that boy and his father for three days. When they settled, they were ordered to run the gauntlet where the natives would beat their unarmed captives. However, the father and son made an offer to the chief to share with him some peaches they had collected on the way and the order was rescinded. It is another lesson we are taught at a young age—evil cannot overcome us if we overcome evil with good.
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