by Karen Ranney
Adrenaline was still pouring through my body. I raised my arms before I thought about it, getting ready to zap my opponent. When he backed away, I peeked through my arms to see Dan standing there, frowning.
He probably wanted to hug me, take me away from the confusion, comfort the scared, weak woman only to encounter, well, me.
I was in full on I’m goddess, hear me roar, don’t mess with me, buddy or I’ll slice you to ribbons with the lasers from my eyes mode and I don’t think he expected it.
Hell, I didn’t expect it.
“What happened, Marcie?” he asked.
I just stared at him for a minute.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked. “I was minding my own business when the Archangel David appeared in my room.”
The idiot hadn’t shut up yet. He was still preaching even though one of Dan’s men was threatening to pull out his tongue and wrap it around his neck.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But something is wrong with your security if he could get into my room as easily as he did. Did he come through the fairy door?”
Dan frowned at me. Maybe I would have been impressed by his show of irritation another time, but not now. I was still in reaction mode.
Charlie wasn’t at all happy at the moment, either, because he was sitting on my feet and didn’t look like he was going to move. His normally friendly face was stoic. He looked like he was giving Dan the equivalent of a doggy scowl.
I was doing the same, only mine was goddessy.
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think all this aura raising and lowering was good for me. It drained me too much. Granted, I needed to protect myself, but I had someone else other than me to think about.
Maybe that’s why I said what I did next.
“I don’t want to stay here. I don’t feel safe.”
He nodded once, which was Dan-speak for “I hear you. I agree. We’ll make other arrangements.”
He did the nodding thing to a few other men and before I knew it, I was paraded out of my suite and down the hall, my clothes carried by two guys, my other stuff by a few more.
Four of Dan’s men took the still voluble intruder in the other direction. I assumed there was a dungeon somewhere on the castle grounds. If not a dungeon, then a state of the art prison cell. I wouldn’t want to be a guest of Dan Travis and his merry men. I had to applaud the courage of the man in black. At the same time, I wanted to make him wear a gag. He was still using the whore word as they dragged him away.
Would he answer their questions?
I didn’t think he would get the Miranda warning and he could kiss his civil rights goodbye. We had the Castle Doctrine in Texas. You invade my space, I have the right to shoot you. I had the feeling Dan carried it a little farther than that. If you invaded his space, he didn’t necessarily turn you over to the authorities. He was the authority.
I hadn’t meant that I wanted to sleep in Dan’s room, but before I could really process it, I found myself in Dan’s Arthurian bed chamber.
Charlie looked around and I could almost hear Opie’s incredulity.
The walls were crimson silk, the carpet of thick gray, patterned to resemble a stone floor. The beams overhead were dark mahogany, giving the impression of a soaring cathedral. Between the two high arched mullioned windows was a suit of armor that I swore was pure silver. The view from here was magnificent, included the flower gardens, a slice of the tear shaped lake, and the approach to Arthur’s Folly.
The bed sat on a dais at one side of the room. The first time I’d seen it I’d thought it was the size of a California King times two, but now it looked even larger, still covered in a collection of gray animal pelts stitched together. Was it wolf? Squirrel? I sincerely hoped it was faux fur.
The fireplace, probably from a European castle, was adorned with carvings of gamboling animals. At least Arthur Peterson hadn’t mounted boar and deer heads on the walls. All those glassy eyes wouldn’t make for a good night’s sleep.
Charlie’s presence posed a problem. I really didn’t want her witnessing my love life and I had, up until now, managed to keep her out of my room when Dan was in my bed. It was one thing having your dog watch you. It was quite another when your dog had a resident ghost.
“I think Charlie has to go out,” I said.
“Call the kennel. They’ll send someone.”
“Am I a prisoner now?” I asked, frowning at him.
“Of course not, but I’d feel better if you weren’t wandering around the castle, at least not until we find out how he got in.”
I buzzed the kennel from the intercom unit beside the wall. One thing about the castle, it was wired for sound. I’m sure there were lots of other things I didn’t know about, just like I hadn’t been aware of the drones until recently.
When the kennel attendant arrived, Dan was on the phone, no doubt giving instructions about the intruder and beefing up security.
I bent, whispered to Charlie/Opie that I would be down to the kennels to take him to see Kenisha when she woke.
Charlie answered me by licking my cheek. I smiled, stood, and watched as he was taken out of the room. The attendant had arrived with one of those loop leashes, but Charlie was so well behaved he didn’t need it.
When I turned back to Dan, he pocketed his phone, and regarded me somberly.
Oh, goody. I could feel some kind of lecture coming on.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcie Montgomery, Resident Goofus
He surprised me.
“There’s a sitting room through there,” Dan said. “I don’t use it much, but you’re welcome to. I want you to be comfortable here. If you’d like any of the furniture changed, all you have to do is punch the intercom. We’ve lots of spare furniture in the attic. If you need some help rearranging anything, just call. Or if you want anything.”
He almost looked uncomfortable as he listed all the amenities of his suite.
“I’m sure everything is wonderful,” I said. “I don’t want to change anything.”
“You can.”
“I’m not the redecorating type. Besides, what could I possibly add to this space?” I looked around at the walls that were covered in silk, the thick carpet resembling squares of slate.
“You might want something frillier,” he said.
I bit back my smile.
“I’m not the frilly type. I’m not sure I’m the squirrel pelt type, either. Maybe something in the middle.”
“There’s a small room across the hall. It was designed as a lady’s solar. I could have it converted into a bedroom. It’s not as large as the suite you had.”
“So my rent check would be smaller?” I asked, allowing myself to smile.
He frowned at me. “Yes.”
I doubted he’d deposited the check I’d given him, but we played this game. I paid him a trifling amount and he allowed me the illusion that I wasn’t being kept.
“I think the room across the hall sounds lovely,” I said.
There, a bit of self-protection.
“It won’t be ready for a few days.”
“The sooner the better.”
“All right. I’ll start the ball rolling,” he said, his voice carrying an edge it hadn’t had earlier. “But for a little while, I’d feel better if you were here with me,” he added. “I need to know you’re safe.”
I was sunk. I was doomed. He’d known the perfect words to keep me silent and acquiescent. Was I so desperate for love that when the word need was used, I crumbled like a waterlogged cookie?
Yes.
This was Dan, and I would get to sleep beside him again tonight without feeling guilty. At least for a few night. Or until I discovered that the very worst had happened and Maddock was my child’s father. Then, I’d leave the castle rather than bring the might of the vampire nation down on his head.
For a few nights, then. I’d stay for a few nights, but that was it.
“How do you think he got in?
” I asked, thinking of my intruder.
“Something we need to investigate.”
I studied him. He wasn’t telling me something.
“You already know how he got in, don’t you? Was it the laundry fairy door?”
He shook his head. “My grandfather believed in secret passages. Priest holes, that sort of thing. I think he found one.”
I just stared at him, speechless. Secret passages? Wasn’t it enough to have fairies working for you?
“You’re serious.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “They were supposed to be kept locked, but I think he got in.”
“How did he know about them?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” he said.
The look in his eyes made me glad I wasn’t the guy in the dungeon right now.
He nodded to me in parting, and then he was gone, taking his temper with him.
Minutes after Dan left, I wanted to slap myself silly. What was I thinking? I should've protested vehemently rather than allow him to deposit me here. I should have taken a cab away from the castle. The minute I had that thought, I reversed myself. I wasn’t stupid. Okay, I might be stupid when it came to Dan, but I wasn't about to put myself in jeopardy. So far I haven't found a vampire friendly place that was also impervious to master vampires. Not that I’d been looking.
Of course, I wasn't the same person I'd been when Maddock had raped me. I’d learned a lot since then, mainly about myself. I can protect myself, maybe not against bullets, but certainly against other vampires. At least I’d zapped Maddock at Dr. Stallings’s office and I was doing pretty good when it came to fighting witches.
I had the zappy thing at my command. I could compel certain individuals. I had the aura, which was protective, and I’d developed the ability to float above my body. As time passed, I’d probably pick up other skills. Hopefully, protective skills that would equalize my situation.
The last thing I needed was for my hormones to trip me up.
I might be falling in love, but right now love looked like a giant sinkhole. I had to sidestep it as long as I could. I had to depend more on my head than my heart.
Granted, my head was telling me that I could trust Dan. It may turn out that he was the only person I could trust, but I still had a few niggling doubts. Not about him as much as the situation. What kind of investigations did he do? Why wasn't he all that open about his company? Was he more involved with the OTHER than he let on? What the hell had Janet meant about uncloaking him?
And finally, the one question every woman asked about a man, especially one about whom she was feeling mushy: what did he think about me?
He was protective and tender, but that didn't stop him from being occasionally aggravated. He wasn't a pushover, but his eyes sometimes softened when he looked at me. Plus he’d stood between me and his mother. Some husbands weren’t that gallant.
Still, I couldn’t be a doofus about this arrangement.
It was just safer and better if I didn’t get myself too involved with Dan and sharing a bed night after night definitely classified as getting too involved. Besides, I would begin to show soon, and the longer I could keep my secret, the better.
The last time I’d stayed here, I hadn’t really explored, thinking it would be rude. This time, I’d been given carte blanche, so I took advantage of the invitation. Two arched doors sat side by side on the other end of the room. I knew the one to the right led to the bathroom. I went through the door on the left.
Here was a room that struggled between Arthur Peterson’s love of medieval legend and his grandson’s immersion in the 21st century. The walls looked to be slate. The floors were flagstone. The mullioned windows gave a view of the lake and the sunny expanse of castle land. The sleek glass desk and computers looked discordant here. So, too, the monitors embedded in the far wall.
I moved to stand beneath them. From here Dan could see his kingdom in high definition detail. I recognized the scenes in three of the monitors. The others were places I’d never been. Did he have cameras mounted in the secret passages? If not, I didn’t doubt that he would rectify that lack faster than he would have the lady’s solar redecorated as a bedroom.
I went into the bathroom, grateful I was alone. Bathroom noises embarrassed me, although I doubted you could hear anything from this giant room. The toilet was located in a small closet off the main bathing area.
The tub was massive, carved from beige and brown marble, and large enough to be considered a mini-swimming pool. I hadn’t bathed in it yet or in the shower with its view of the sky. Now sunlight poured into the space, illuminating the crystal blue sinks, the polished brass - or gold - fixtures, and all the plants.
I felt like I was in a jungle or an oasis. Outside, the world was a confusing place. Here was peace and tranquility.
I returned to the bedroom, took the doorway in the far wall and found myself in the sitting room. I’d never been here before and from the unused air of the room, I doubted many people had been.
Silk adorned the walls, the pattern tiny tea roses in shades of pink and coral. Bookcases lined a second wall and a desk the third. A massive window looked out over the flower garden. In spring, all the various blooms would bring the outside in and make this room feel like part of a greenhouse.
The chaise upholstered in coral silk and arranged beside a round mahogany table was the mama to the chaise in my room. This piece of furniture was twice as large, with a pillowed back and arms, and tufted cushions. A loveseat sat a few feet away, facing the window.
The lamp on the table reminded me of something I’d once seen in a Sotheby’s catalog. A shepherd and shepherdess were holding hands, their gaze locked in a glance of forever love. The shade was an odd shape, conforming to the width and depth of the sculpture at its base. As I reached my hand toward it, the light went on and when I drew it back, the light went off.
Despite the fact that there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere, and the cushions had been plumped in readiness for a visitor, there was an unused feeling about the room, as if it anxiously awaited its first true occupant. I stood in the middle of the gray carpet, wondering if I was having a flight of fancy, or I was genuinely picking up something from a space that shouldn’t have been sentient.
I’d never talked to anyone about ghosts and whether they were considered part of the paranormal world. I’d never told anyone about Opie. To the best of my knowledge, only Kenisha and I knew about her and maybe some labs, if they understood such things. I’d have to ask Opie if dogs had a comprehension of humans. Did they realize we were a different species? For that matter, did they know they were dogs?
Opie had been a vampire when she died. Did that mean that werewolves and other Brethren could also become ghosts? Did ghosts have to take on another form? Or were there such things as incorporeal beings that floated freeform in the ether?
Could humans become ghosts? Or was that reserved only for the paranormal?
This sitting room, however little used it felt, was a warm and comforting place, most definitely welcoming and almost grandmotherly.
I sincerely hoped it was only my imagination or because I was still drained from my confrontation with the preaching intruder. I was in no mood to meet a ghostly grandmother.
I went back to the bedroom where one of Dan’s men had dumped all the paperwork he’d scooped up from the desk. All my lists were there and I hoped nobody had read them. I grabbed the Brethren for Dummies file and moved back into the sitting room, settled into the chaise, and rang for tea. While I was at it, I decided that a few slices of cheesecake were in order.
I was eating for two, remember.
Chapter Twenty
You're Not A Zombie, Are You?
The kitchen was learning my tastes. In addition to sending up two slices of New York style cheesecake, they also included small bowls of cherries, strawberries, and blueberries.
I have a new motto: if cheesecake can solve it, it’s not really a problem.
/> By the time I finished both slices and had a pot of tea, I decided that finishing my reading could wait. I switched on the TV on the opposite wall, but the news wasn’t really that interesting and I didn’t want to watch any of the divorce, game, and judge shows. Maybe I needed a nap more than anything else.
I was awakened by the barest touch on my face. In my half waking state, I imagined that a grandmotherly figure bent over me. She called my name softly, adding a “dear” in a sweet and clear voice.
I blinked open my eyes to see Dan standing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I drew my hand over my face, looking for telltale signs of drool. Had my mouth been open? Had I been snoring?
I doubted if Dan would tell me even if I had the courage to ask. I was going to pretend that I’d been the epitome of Sleeping Beauty and he’d been overcome by my grace and poise.
“What time is it?”
The sky had darkened, leading to my brilliant conclusion that hours had passed. A conclusion that was verified when Dan told me it was nearly seven.
Maybe one of these days I would wear a watch again. My life had always been regimented by the hours. I felt like I was forever on the clock. Throwing away my watch had been a deliberate act of rebellion when I’d become a vampire.
He walked into the room, immediately warming the space. The feeling of peace and well being intensified so much I almost asked him about his grandmother.
He picked up my feet as he sat on the end of the chaise, put my feet on his lap, and began to stroke them.
“I discovered something about your intruder,” he said.
“Don’t make him mine,” I said. “I don’t know the man from Adam. Did he discover the secret passage?”
He nodded. “It was supposed to have been closed off, but the lock’s been opened.”
