A Summoner's Tale - The Vampire's Confessor (Black Swan 3)

by Danann, Victoria

  Storm smiled slightly and turned toward Heaven. "Do you think you could get Simon to let you into Baka's quarters and grab some clothes?"

  Heaven nodded, glanced at Baka, and moved quickly toward the door.

  "You hungry?" Storm asked.

  Baka shook his head. "How was she injured?"

  "Bullet. Clean through the soft part of the shoulder. Grazed bone, but didn't take much on the way by. Lots of blood loss, but she got transfusions and the rest of the day on IV should put the roses back in her cheeks."

  "Boy or girl?"

  Storm lifted his chin and smiled proudly. "Aelshelm Storm Laiken-Hawking. She calls him Helm. He'll never be a vampire slayer. He's a first born."

  Baka couldn't tell if that was said wistfully or with regret.

  "There won't be any more vampire to slay, Sir Storm." Baka seemed to be studying Storm for a clue to his inner thoughts. Like a shrink. Unnerving.

  Storm looked thoughtful. "I guess I keep forgetting that."

  A nurse came in and smiled at both of them. Her white opaque panty hose made a swishing sound as her legs communed on their way past each other. Storm stepped out of the way while she took pulse and temperature. "Your lunch will be here in just a minute." She seemed far too cheerful to be a proper nurse.

  "I'm not hungry," said Baka.

  "Hmmm. The doctor would like you to introduce some solid food into your system. You were dehydrated when admitted and have been on IV for three days. We can't release you until you pass some gas and, without food, there will be no gas to pass."

  Behind the nurse Storm bit back a smile, but Baka couldn't miss the sparkling levity in those all-too-often intense black eyes.

  She left the door open on her way out barely missing a young man who was coming through the door carrying a tray. He set it on the arm of the rolling stand, wheeled it into place in front of Baka and removed the stainless steel dish covers with the flourish of a French maitre d. Since he got no visible reaction from either of them, he said, "Ring the buzzer if you want anything else," and left.

  Alone again with Storm, Baka looked down at the food in front of him. It appeared to be some sort of turkey sandwich on white bread with whipped potatoes on the side, and a jello mold with a layer of cream cheese on top.

  "Somebody likes white food," Storm quipped.

  Baka inhaled. The faint aroma of warm turkey assaulted his olfactory sense without warning and, in an abrupt about face, he realized he was ravenous. He grabbed a half sandwich and ate it in two bites, ripped open a milk carton and chugged from it, then wolfed down most of the potatoes in seconds.

  Storm leaned against the wall facing the side of the bed Baka was sitting on. "Remind me not to get close when you are hungry." Baka stopped chewing long enough to look both surprised and sheepish which made Storm grin. "Welcome back to life, old son."

  Baka regarded Storm with what might have been a little affection and then laughed out loud. "I'm a lucky son-of-a-bitch. Did you know that?"

  Storm nodded just a little. "So say we all."

  Baka thanked Heaven for the clothes. She said she would wait outside while he changed. He pulled the IV out which alerted the nurses' station and brought them running. In short order, they enjoyed a quick, but firm, education on the futility of arguing with Istvan Baka when he had decided on a course of action. He ordered them from his room so that he could continue getting dressed and they went.

  When he opened the door, Heaven was waiting and she almost caught her breath. She was sorry she had brought him a blue shirt that made his eyes look so arresting. If she was naming that color, she thought she would have to call it beguiling blue. She berated herself for being so thoughtless as to outfit him that handsomely for another woman's pleasure. While she continued to chastise herself internally, Baka looked at her with curiosity. He motioned her to come back inside the hospital room and she did.

  As he looked down at her she suddenly felt uncomfortable standing close to him, her body reacting to the nearness of his warmth and breath.

  "Heaven, what were you doing here when I woke up?"

  In a couple of blinks she had processed through several lies and decided to take her lumps with the truth. She looked at his chest and talked to his blue shirt without raising her eyes. "Waiting for you to wake up."

  Every letter of every word of that answer fell as pleasant on Baka's battered body and spirit as the sound of wind chimes. "Why?"

  She glanced up at his eyes and down again before he could see that she was struggling to hold back tears. In the past few days she had undergone a catharsis that left her crumpled at Baka's feet, desperately hoping for another chance.

  He, on the other hand... well, the last thing he knew she had left him sitting in the office without so much as saying good night. He had watched her stomp away in her usual surly huff. Of course he would be confused by her change in behavior.

  Taking her chin in his hand, he gently lifted her face forcing her to look up at him. The fact, in evidence, that she was trying not to cry was completely baffling.

  "Did something happen while I was away?" he asked so tenderly, with such compassion, that she almost released convulsive sobs.

  "I had a change of heart." He could see that she was working at maintaining some dignity. Nothing wrong with that. Who would want a woman with no pride?

  "A change of heart," he repeated. "Did you decide you like me?"

  With that she lost the battle and gave a little ground as a single big tear slipped down her cheek. Her lips parted and she started to say something, but closed her mouth and simply nodded instead.

  Baka smiled. I really am a lucky son-of-a-bitch.

  "I have something to do. I'm going to see how my friend is doing and, it seems, go to confession at the same time. If you're not busy, maybe you could wait for me?"

  She looked as startled as if that was the last thing she had expected, but nodded enthusiastically.

  When Baka eased through the door, Blackie didn't move from his pallet, but cut his eyes at the unwelcome visitor while giving him a half-hearted growl deep in his throat.

  "Still not receptive to the idea of being friends, I see."

  Elora had turned when she heard someone open the door. She looked from Baka to Blackie. "Dogs are good judges of character." She motioned for Baka to come around to her good side. "What were you thinking, dumb ass? Do I have to watch you all the time?"

  "Is that a possibility?"

  She laughed without thinking. "Ow."

  "So. No small talk then? Right to business?"

  "Glad you're okay."

  "You, too. Are you?"

  "Yes." She moved her chin to the side in a corrective gesture. "Well. Will be soon."

  "Do I have to watch you all the time?"

  She laughed again without thinking. "Ow. Stop it! Didn't you hear me say, 'Ow'?"

  He smiled. "Okay."

  "Can you push that lever there and help me sit up a little?"

  "Ever at your service, Lady Laiken."

  Elora gave him a look. When the bed reached the angle that felt best she said, "Okay. That's good. Thanks." She sighed. He waited. "There's something I always wanted to know. Did you think twice about giving up immortality? Once you were given the choice to take the cure?"

  Baka stared down at her for a couple of beats and seemed to be mulling it over.

  "I once heard the poet laureate say that the reason why we value real flowers is because we know they're dying."

  While she was absorbing that, Elora noticed that Baka's gaze kept lighting on Helm and lingering with something that looked a lot like longing.

  "You want to hold him?" Baka met her eyes for a second, like he was debating whether or not he should. He nodded. "Well, go on then." She gestured toward the baby with her head. "Oh and he's heavier than he looks. So be careful."

  When Baka stepped around the end of the bed, headed for the crib, Blackie raised his head and added a bit more sincerity and volume to his gro
wl. The dog was certain that vampire had no business approaching the tiny person that smelled so much like Elora. He added a baring of his teeth to punctuate his opinion of Baka. At that point, most people would have left and not come back.

  "Blackie," Elora soothed, "S'okay."

  The dog deferred to his mistress and quieted, but looked at Elora like he wasn't at all sure she was the one who should be in charge.

  Baka ran his left hand underneath the sleeping Helm until the baby's head was safely cupped in his big palm then scooped him up smoothly with his right hand, all without disturbing the tiny, sleeping elf in the least.

  "Looks like you know what you're doing." Elora smiled.

  Baka swallowed hard and felt his eyes sting. The precious memories of holding every one of his children when they were new came flooding back to him and he remembered why he had thought, at the time, that it was truly the only thing worth doing. When Monq told him he was free of the vampire virus, the first thing he did was ask if he was sterile. Monq had done a quick test and told him that he was producing a lot more swimmers than he'd ever be able to provide for.

  Baka shifted Helm into the crook of his left arm. The baby slowly opened hauntingly familiar, turquoise eyes and looked him over studiously. Baka laughed out loud which made Helm draw his fiery red brows together into a baby frown. But he didn't cry.

  "What a very fine boy you have here, My Lady." He didn't spare Elora so much as a glance while he said it. Baka jiggled Helm a little to reassure him that he was safe, swaying back and forth in an age-old ritual dance designed to keep babies happy.

  Elora smiled in acknowledgement. "Thank you."

  When Helm heard her voice he turned his little head in her direction.

  "He wants me."

  Baka laughed at her. "Tell him to get in line."

  She took the baby from Baka in a smooth transfer.

  "When he starts fussing, I'm going to have to ask you to leave because I'm going to feed this child and I don't want to tease you with a sight you'll never be able to purge from your fantasies. So I'll talk fast.

  "I'm thinking you must have been a very good boy to end up getting everything you ever wanted."

  Baka cocked his head to the side and looked genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean?"

  "You remember when I asked you what you would have if you could have anything? You said you wanted what was taken from you: a wife, children, fulfilling work. That's not verbatim. There was something else about stew and dying of old age.”

  "I believe you just butchered my prose, but, yes, I remember."

  "Good. So?"

  "What do you mean, 'so'?

  "Are you being deliberately obtuse or have you not been told anything about what happened while you were gone?"

  "I haven't been... awake for long. Heaven was there with flowers, smiles, and tears which was more than a day's quota of weirdness in itself. Storm came in, told me what happened to you, and wanted me to debrief. I didn't want to talk about it to him or in front of her.

  "He said I could come see you if I told you what happened; how I was turned again. It makes it sound like I'm an alcoholic who went on a tear."

  "Okay. So what happened?"

  "You first."

  Elora looked down at the baby, thinking it over. "Alright."

  In a masterful summary that relied on high points, she told the double-ex-vampire how she had sneaked away every day to observe the wolves and ended up wounded, in labor on a snowy night, alone in the dark except for a pack of lupine who were kind enough to provide room in the den for mother and child. And dog.

  Baka reached over and patted her knee under the cotton blanket in a gesture of comfort. When Elora noted the thick bandage around his wrist her eyes darted to the other arm to see if there was a matching accessory. There was. She raised her eyes to his and seemed to be searching, wondering which of them had endured the worst of it.

  She'd always felt a keen compassion for the man who was buried underneath a vampire possession, trapped in a nightmare that was not of his own making. If Baka could somehow find his way to a happily ever after, after the horrors and injustices he'd survived, Elora would be willing to venture an optimistic outlook toward a future. Whether the future would be governed by random chaos or the tangled operations of puppet masters was a debate for someone with more time on their hands.

  She ended with, "Your turn."

  "Changed my mind." Elora narrowed her eyes. "Just kidding."

  When Baka finished relaying his story, Elora grinned at him.

  "So we're just alike. We both exercised incredibly stupid judgment that resulted in being alone in the cold, in the dark, and in pain. Yay us."

  "You have a gift for summary."

  "Maybe, but it brings me to the conclusion that either our paths are on a trajectory that has intersected in strange coincidences or else we have experienced a textbook example of synchronicity."

  Baka smiled. "Fan of Jung, are you?"

  Elora shook her head just a little. "More of a student. I don't think Jung would want fans."

  "I agree."

  "That Jung wouldn't want fans? Well, we'll never know for sure. He's dead."

  "No, Elora. About all this being a hell of a coincidence."

  "Synchronicity."

  "Whatever." He glanced around the room. "Anyway, something definitely came over my assistant. She's not acting like I'm a multi-headed monster. In fact..."

  "In fact she's acting like she loves you." Baka's gaze jerked toward Elora. "Do you even know exactly how you came to be rescued?"

  "B Team found me. B Team minus you, of course."

  "Yes, but there's a lot more to it than that. Sit down. Helm seems to be content for the time being and this is going to take a little while."

  Elora began with Heaven being worried that Baka hadn't come into work and ended with the rescue. Elora hoped she hadn't left out too many pertinent details because it was a good story that deserved to be told in its entirety.

  Baka listened with rapt attention. He never asked a question and his facial expression didn't alter, but Elora thought she read fleeting emotions as they danced across his face and disappeared. When she was finished, she waited quietly for a response.

  Finally he said, "I've never heard of a summoner before."

  Elora smiled. "It's a great story isn't it? We should call it A Summoner's Tale."

  "Catchy."

  "I think so. You can steal it if you need an idea for a book."

  "Very gracious."

  "Well, you know me. But, here's the thing, vampire."

  "Ex vampire."

  "Oh yeah? For how long this time?"

  "Side splitting funny. Who's the comedian now?"

  "Try and pay attention. I'm telling you that this is the sign you've been hoping for. Your maker forgives you, wants you to be happy, and wants you to get what you need from life. And as much as you may love to joke about it, we both know that's not me."

  He mulled that over, testing it for possible validity. In the space of a minute he weighed it, dissected it, pressed, pulled, and put it back together. Then he decided the Lady Laiken was one hundred percent right.

  It was a miracle. His miracle.

  What would he do with such a blessing if it was true? He tried out a tentative, slightly sheepish smile.

  "A second chance?"

  "Um-hmm. A real second chance. She's even been gift wrapped for you in a beautiful package and named for what she is to you. Heaven McBride. Go enjoy your life and your good fortune. You deserve it."

  The tension smoothed from Baka's face as his heart opened to receive the absolution waiting for him. He felt it wash over him like a balm, soothing every fissure and frayed edge of his soul, bolstering his faith that his creator had found him worthy of the simple pleasures he wanted to drown in. The good life.

  He looked up quickly and met Elora's eyes before he rushed for the door.

  "Stay away from vampire fangs and saliva this time
, okay?"

  On the way out he said, "Congratulations. I love you."

  One thing he'd learned from having his humanity interrupted by several hundred years. Tell people you love that you love them while you can.

  "Love you, too." She waved at the air dismissively and returned to her new favorite pastime, admiring her baby.

  ***

  CHAPTER 21

  As promised, Heaven was waiting in the hospital room where he had awakened. She was looking out the window with her back to the door. Hearing the soft shush of the rubber seal against the floor, she turned to see Baka coming toward her with purpose in his stride. Her eyes opened wider when she realized he was on a mission and she was the target.

  Was that a thrill of delight that just slithered through her body making her shudder visibly?

  Was that smolder in his eyes? For her? Had it been there before while she had been so studiously avoiding looking at him? Looking everywhere except at him?

  As Baka continued to advance she almost buckled into a puddle of conflict between excitement and anxiety. Fortunately she was only steps from the door and didn't have enough time to think about it before he gathered her up and pulled her close. Heaven's body instantly responded with something like a deep sign of contentment and relaxed against him with the pliancy of complete trust and surrender. Home.

  Keeping his left arm wrapped tight around her waist, he ran his right hand over her hair looking at her with an expression of wonder, like he was checking to make sure she was real.

  "How about a second chance?" The rasp of his vocal chords, still thickened and damaged from screaming, was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard.

  She parted her lips to say something, but, before she had the chance to utter a sound, he had decided he couldn't wait for an answer. He took advantage of the opening of her pretty mouth by pressing a sweet and lingering kiss that reminded her on some core level that his taste was so perfect that it defied description. His warmth was divine. His touch was divine. His scent of clean maleness was divine. The evidence of his fully engaged masculinity, pressing against her with urgency, was divine.