Call Her Mine

by Lydia Michaels

  His guilty expression gave him away.

  “Christian! I’m never going to be good at this stuff if you do it for me.”

  “It is a silly trick, Delilah. That is why God gave us hands. You will learn eventually.”

  She stomped her foot. “Easy for you to say. You can do all kinds of cool stuff.”

  “Come along, let’s keep moving.”

  They walked quietly, but Delilah was growing bored again. “Can you run faster than a speeding bullet?”

  “How am I to know how fast a bullet travels?”

  “How about a train?”

  “Delilah, I do not measure my speed. Why are you so interested in such things?”

  “Why are you so uninterested? Don’t you think it’s neat?”

  “It is what I am and always have been. Do you think it is neat that your hair grows or that you can walk on two feet?”

  “You’re not being much fun tonight.”

  He sighed and took her hand. “I am sorry, pintura. I simply want to be home. I do not like being away from the farm.”

  She stared at him for a moment, this tall, gorgeous, vampyre man who was her mate. “Why are you so shy, Christian?”

  He stiffened. “I am not shy.”

  “Uh, yeah you are.”

  “Just because I am comfortable with silence does not make me shy.”

  She thought about how awkward he’d been at Destiny and Cain’s. “You don’t like being around others.”

  “I simply prefer certain people over others. It isn’t that I am intimidated by others.”

  “Okay, sorry.”

  They continued on their way. Once they crossed Pittsburg it was dawn. They were actually making good speed. They stopped to eat and Christian fed. Delilah wasn’t in the mood to feed. She was sick of walking and wanted to get home. Or to the farm. Whatever.

  She began to sing Simon and Garfunkel’s Homeward Bound. “I’m sittin’ in a railway station, gotta ticket for my destination, mm-hmm-mmm…”

  Christian looked at her like she was nuts, but she couldn’t take the silence anymore. She continued to sing and during the faster parts of the song she found them moving faster. Christian smiled as they leapt through the trees. She laughed as her voice broke terribly during a softer part. He laughed with her.

  There was something free showing in his gaze, a sort of youthfulness that wasn’t always there. When she finished the song they were out of breath. He smiled and stared at her for a moment, an expectant glean in his eyes.

  The moment was anchoring toward something intense she didn’t want to deal with at the moment. So she turned and leapt to a tree about thirty feet away. She landed like a monkey, wrapping her arms around the softer branches at the top. Her fingers, sticky with sap, helped her cling to the pine limbs.

  He landed in the tree next to her, a spark of challenge in his eyes.

  “Wanna race?” she asked.

  He nodded and she took off. Her voice echoed through the woods and Christian’s laughter wasn’t too far behind. “Celia! You’re breaking my heart...”

  He sped past her once she landed on the ground. She giggled and chased after him. Her heart raced and something light took hold of her. She felt like she was flying.

  She continued to sing about making love in the afternoon with Cecilia. Her laughter broke the rhythm of her singing, but she belted out the lyrics anyway. “I’m begging you please to come home…”

  The earth opened wide and a large canyon on the side of a mountain came into view, echoing her terrible singing back at them. They ran around the ridged rock edge, laughing, singing, chasing. It was probably one of the most fun and freeing moments of her life. She never wanted to forget it.

  As they slowed their pace and carefully maneuvered around a steep curve of a mountain, Christian held her arm, steadying her. She watched her footing as she crested the edge. The altitude made her head feel slightly full. She breathed in and looked over the cliff. Her breath caught at the vision before her. It was magnificent.

  “Where are we?” she asked breathlessly, her voice feeling like an intrusion in such a perfect place.

  The heat of Christian’s body warmed her side. “The Pennsylvania Canyons.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  Heavy mountains butted together, forming a slender canyon deep in the belly of the earth. A gentle haze formed low, trapping the sunshine as though they were above the heavens looking down. She’d never seen something so impressive. “I want to paint this.”

  He smiled and took her palm in his. They stared silently, simply breathing in the splendor of it all. Christian held her hand and it felt right, his fingers curling around her own. She didn’t want to move.

  She didn’t want to break this moment. Everything was peaceful here. They were above all the stress, all the worries. They were simply…here.

  “Delilah?” Christian’s voice was soft, as though he felt how delicate the moment was.

  Neither looked at the other. The mountains captivated their gazes, seduced them with uncontainable facets and crevices of hidden beauty. “Yes, Christian.”

  He didn’t answer right away. His hand was warm around hers. The air was fresh and somehow penetrated her soul. “Will you marry me?”

  The tender feeling that warmed her as she looked out at the impressive canyon bloomed, only now her eyes had shut. She still felt the beauty all around her. The sense of oneness, the peace, the security, the silent promise that everything was all right. She didn’t understand where these emotions were coming from.

  Her heart skipped in her chest and she could not escape the feeling that this—here in this moment, overlooking these breathtaking mountains—was exactly where she was supposed to be. With Christian.

  And then there was the fact that he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered and his hand tightened around hers.

  “I love you,” he said softly. “I have never said that to another soul before.”

  Her head lowered as though her heart grew too heavy against her spine. “Oh, Christian…”

  “You do not have to say it back. I know you…care for me. I simply wanted you to know. What you do to me…it is…I have no other words. I just know that what I feel…it is love.”

  Should she tell him? Did she love him? He made her…feel. With Christian she felt things she had never felt before with any other man. She trusted him in a way that wasn’t rational to trust someone she had only met weeks ago. But she did.

  No matter how much she gave him a hard time, there was something about him that stuck to her, stuck with her. He was like a fungus she couldn’t shake. She wished she had pretty words like he did to let him know how she felt. Love was a word she didn’t like to toss around too often. She simply didn’t say it.

  She wished she had some orange Tic-Tacs like Juno gave Bleeker or something. Even a radio playing some Peter Gabriel that she could hold over her head Say Anything style would be nice. She thought about the song Adam Sandler sang Drew Barrymore in The Wedding Singer and wished she could remember the words. She had no words.

  He’d just asked her to marry him and confessed his love and she had absolutely no idea what to say. She had never imagined a moment like this in her life. In a million years she would not have imagined being in this perfect place with this man and feeling the things she was feeling.

  She turned to face him, wrapping her other hand around the one that already held hers. He smiled at her and she said, “Christian, I know we’re going to live all old fashioned and stuff, but for what it’s worth, I’ll always let you hold the remote control.”

  He smiled and then frowned. “Pardon me?”

  “The remote. I don’t share mine with anyone. Not that it matters anymore because we won’t have TV on the farm, but…there you have it. My remote. It’s yours.”

  “You are a strange female, Delilah.”

  She smiled. “I know. And you’re a really weird Amish vampyre. But if Felix Unger and Oscar Ma
dison could make it work, I’m pretty sure we can too.”

  “Who?”

  “The Odd Couple.” She hummed the theme song. “Oh, forget it.” Then she kissed him.

  * * * *

  When they arrived at the farm it was dusk. Delilah had thought they would go to Christian’s home, maybe make nice-nice on all that will you marry me talk, but they ended up knocking on the door of some large colonial.

  A man opened the door. “Good evening, Bredder Christian.” He looked at Delilah and frowned. She was wearing jeans and a hoody. Not very Amish of her.

  “Good evening, David. Is Eleazar in?”

  The man nodded and stepped back, granting them entry. “He is in his study.”

  Christian held her hand and led her down a long corridor. “What is this place?” she whispered.

  “This is the Safe House. It is where Bishop King and his family reside. Over there is Council Hall, where we have our meetings.”

  “Are you like a mayor?”

  “No, I am an elder.”

  “The elder of Schrockville?”

  “No, just an elder.”

  He knocked on a large wooden door that was partially opened.

  “Enter,” a strong male voice said.

  Christian pressed the door the rest of the way open and they stepped in. Hello Handsome Man. The man sitting at the desk was gorgeous. He had short black hair and black eyes.

  “Christian. Are you just getting in?”

  “Yes, Bishop. I’ve come to formally introduce my mate, Delilah. She has agreed to marry me.”

  The bishop rose from his seat and smiled. “Well, that is wonderful. Your mother will be pleased. It is nice to finally meet you, Delilah.” He nodded in her direction, but did not attempt to touch her. Vampyres were weird like that.

  “I would be pleased if the ceremony was soon,” Christian said.

  Delilah didn’t know much about Amish weddings, but she felt like this was a thing she should chime in on. She cleared her throat. “I get a say in our wedding, right?”

  The bishop’s lips quirked to the side. “Our wedding ceremonies are fairly simple, child. But I am sure you can arrange for a few special touches.”

  “Like a vodka luge?” They both looked at her with misunderstanding. “It’s an ice sculpture that vodka pours out of. I saw it on TV once.”

  “I will let you speak to the other females and you can decide what you want. Keep in mind it is a simple affair,” Christian said.

  “Have a seat,” the bishop said, waving them to a set of chairs across from his desk. “How was your trip?”

  “It was…interesting.” Christian released her hand as they sat. Delilah looked around the office. It was very plain.

  “There is a meeting tomorrow you will most likely want to attend.”

  Christian raised a brow. “It is not Tuesday.”

  “Yes. Dane has asked to meet with the elders. It will be a closed meeting.”

  “What is the purpose?” Christian asked.

  “He wants to discuss Isaiah’s future.”

  Delilah didn’t know who Isaiah was, but she knew Dane. He was the punk who turned her over to Christian when she tried to escape. He was his half-brother.

  “How do you see the meeting going?”

  The bishop leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers over his chest. “I see it being an emotional discussion. I do not look forward to seeing Ezekiel hurt.”

  “The boy has been hurt too, Eleazar. Isaiah took his mother.”

  “There are many things I endeavor to find forgiveness for. Isaiah was once a dear friend. To see him now is…distressing. But we cannot keep him in a cell forever.”

  They were keeping someone in a cell? That didn’t seem too Amish.

  “I am surprised he has remained there.”

  The bishop nodded, a look of consternation on his face. “I as well. He seems to have calmed since being captured. Perhaps there is a sense of home he detects about this place. It is difficult for me to imagine he is completely lost.”

  “He is lost, Eleazar. You know it is the truth. There is no point in avoiding what must be done.”

  A long steady breath was expelled from the bishop. “Indeed. Do you know how you will vote?”

  “I believe my opinion on the matter is quite clear.”

  “And what of your opinion when the presence of your half-sister comes into play, Christian?”

  “She is only a girl to me. I do not know her and did not know her before her accident. I feel for the boy, but we cannot have madness here. They are threats to the world and it is our duty to protect the innocents from such evil.”

  “I would be careful who you share your thoughts with. There are some who are quite attached to the girl.”

  Christian nodded. “The same who are hoping there is a salvation for Isaiah.”

  The bishops nodded. “The Hartzlers care for the Foster children very much. It will be difficult for Ezekiel to not only lose his brother, but watch the girl go as well.”

  “I see no issue in leaving the girl be for a time. She is young and she is weak. I feel that Dane could use the time with her that he still has. Perhaps he can find his own closure before a decision is forced upon him.”

  “Is that compassion I detect in your voice, Christian?”

  “I am not without empathy, Eleazar.”

  “I’ll be sure to alert the others.” The bishop turned on Delilah. His expression lightened and the matter of ‘the girl’ and the crazy guy seemed to be put aside. “Vito is coming in tomorrow. He can take a list of items from you. If there is anything specific you require for your wedding, be sure to let him know.” He turned to Christian. “I imagine she still has belongings elsewhere.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will arrange for Vito to handle that.”

  “Is this Destiny’s brother?” Delilah asked, recalling the girls mentioning that he got them underwear and things they couldn’t get here on the farm. She remembered Gracie mentioning that the bishop had a thing for silk panties and couldn’t stop the image that suddenly filled her mind of the impressive man in front of her wearing nothing but a pair of pink lacies.

  He scowled at her. “Your mate has quite an imagination, Christian. I look forward to watching your relationship progress.”

  Christian stood and Delilah felt her cheeks burning. Damn mind reading vampyres.

  * * * *

  That evening, after a bath and a frisky bout of love making, they lay in bed in the darkness. Christian had fallen asleep and Delilah thought about what kind of wedding she would like. It wasn’t like she had many options in terms of style. Her wedding dress had been made before she even agreed to marry the arrogant man.

  She thought about Vito coming and decided she should make a list. Slipping out of bed, she went to Christian’s study and sat at the desk. It took her a few tries to light the lamp, but she figured it out. There was a quill and an ink jar set neatly at the corner of a stack of papers. Her fiancé was a little OCD.

  She dipped the quill and tested it out, smiling at the scraping sound it made across the paper. Sometimes old stuff was cool.

  She made a list for over an hour. Thinking hard about the things she wanted and unsure if she would ever have the option of asking again. When she returned to the upstairs there was a sense of peace still with her.

  She thought about the canyon and how it had made her feel. Rather than return to bed, she turned and went into the spare room where she had placed her paints. Would this room someday belong to her children? Children. A warm sensation spread in her chest.

  Delilah collected her paints and brushes and went to the hall. The stairs were wide and along a blank wall. There was a railing on one side. She decided it was the perfect place for her masterpiece, a wedding present to her husband. She settled onto a step and began unscrewing various jars.

  As her brush threaded over the plaster walls her mind wondered. She was getting married—to an Amish vampyre. Str
ange, the bloodsucking portion of the epiphany should have been the weird factor, but it was actually the fact that she’d agreed to be his wife that threw her the most.

  Since her mid-twenties, she’d been somewhat of a loner. She’d always been a wild card, but after losing her Nan she was never quite the same. If not for her clients, days could go by without her even uttering a word. Maybe that was why she talked so much to herself.

  As her brush dipped into the deep amber shades, highlighting the tree branches she painted, she acknowledged how truly lonely she’d been. She wasn’t a slut, but she was a far cry from prudent.

  The night she’d met Christian she’d suffered a reaction unlike anything she’d ever felt. Something deep inside her wanted—no, needed—to be with him. Sure, he was super-hot, but it was more than that. She didn’t think he used any of his fancy vampyre tricks to make her put out. It was all her. Then he’d bit her.

  Strange, the initial revulsion and sense of being a victim was no longer as prominent. She was coming to accept that he did what he had to do. She now understood being called to one’s mate was a matter of life or death. She didn’t like to think of Christian dying when there was something she could have done to prevent it. It was sort of nice to think she saved him. To think he could have gone mad if he hadn’t claimed her…well, that was just something she didn’t want to think about.

  And now she was going to marry him. How odd.

  “Pintura?”

  She stilled and glanced to the top of the stairs. Dawn had arrived. Her mind had carried her away for hours, the therapeutic stokes of her brush passing time without her notice. He stood in only his pants, a curious look on his face.

  “Hi.”

  “You are painting another picture.”

  She placed her brush on the drop cloth. “Sorry. I should have asked.”

  He shook his head. “We shall have the most interesting house on the farm.”

  Her lips curled. He wasn’t upset with her. “Do you like it? It’s the canyons we saw.”

  He slowly stepped down the stairs and touched her cheek, his gaze looking only at her. “It is the prettiest masterpiece I have ever set eyes on.”