I'm the Vampire, That's Why

by Michele Bardsley

  "Sometimes a person is forced to violence when he or those he loves are threatened," said Patrick.

  "You mean that guy tried to hurt you?"

  Patrick paused, obviously thinking about his answer.

  He was in no mood to apologize for defending his claim on me, but I knew that he realized he couldn't give Jenny carte blanche to knock the snot out of anyone she perceived as a threat. I understood the issue he was trying to skirt, but Jenny was literal-minded. I knew my daughter. She was thinking: A smack for a smack. Now, Patrick was trying to explain, badly I might add, why an emotional hurt required a physical response.

  "He hurt me… in a way," said Patrick carefully.

  "What way?" She gasped and narrowed her eyes at Johnny. "Did he kick you in your woobies?"

  Patrick blinked at her, opened his mouth, and snapped it shut.

  "If he didn't kick you, then what did he—"

  "You know what, Jenny?" I interrupted. "Why don't we go see if the kitty is still alive, hmmm?"

  Bryan darted out and shouted, "The cat climbed up your bedpost, Mom! It's on the top railing. The dogs are going nuts."

  Jenny dropped her interrogation and ran to join her brother. I would not think about the state of chaos that currently reigned in my room. Or what destruction was being wrought. Or how I was going to rub out claw marks from my cherrywood finish or get animal hair off my sheets.

  Patrick stood up, his expression filled with both temper and chagrin. I helped Johnny to his feet and immediately removed myself from grasping distance, in case he decided to do something else stupid.

  "Was that cat wearing jewelry?" I asked.

  "Yeah," said Johnny. "It's an ankh."

  "Oh." What the hell was an ankh? Did I care? I searched the depths of my soul. No, I did not. "And the dogs?"

  "Not mine," said Johnny. He ambled down the hall and into my bedroom.

  Well, day-amn. Was everyone going into my personal, private space? Add some dance music and a pitcher of margaritas and it would officially be Party Central in there. Alas, I had bigger fish to fry. (And my blender was busted, anyway.)

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled at Patrick. "You can't go all caveman on me every time I try to eat."

  "Yes, I can. Especially if you're fang-deep in Johnny Angelo's neck." He glanced down the hall. We heard a round of growls and "hey, that's my mom's underwear!" I rolled my eyes. I mentally added new lingerie onto Patrick's tab.

  "I hope it wasn't the sparkly pink teddy," he murmured. "I really liked that one."

  "Patrick? Focus, please." We walked toward the open door of my room, though truth be told, I did not want to look inside. "Stan didn't buy the kids a pair of slobbering dogs, did he?"

  "No. Those mutts are—"

  The cat bulleted between us.

  "Lucifer!" shouted Johnny as he hurried after her. "That's enough, you crazy bitch!"

  "You gotta put a quarter in the Cussing Jar," yelled a delighted Jenny, who was hot on his heels.

  Bryan shot past us, followed by one of the big, black dogs. I frowned at the fuzzy, wagging tail. "They look like wolves."

  "They are." Patrick grabbed my shoulder and put a finger against my opened mouth. "Ssshhh! Trust me, Jessica, your children are safe."

  "Okay." I trusted Patrick. He would never put my kids in danger. I knew he would sooner give up his own life than endanger theirs. That thought hit me like a lead fist. Wasn't that a helluva good quality for a parent?

  "Why don't you like Johnny?" I asked.

  "I do like him. I just don't like him anywhere near you."

  "Why not?"

  "He wants you."

  "No, he doesn't. He wants you."

  "What?"

  "Not like that. Probably. I don't know. You're really cute."

  "Jessica…"

  I shrugged. "He wanted to piss you off. Why?"

  Patrick gauged my expression and realized I was going to annoy the hell out of him until I got answers. A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I know the location of his Master and I won't tell him. No one will."

  I crossed my arms and stared at him.

  "He wants to kill her."

  "He won't tell us why," said Darrius as he strolled into the hallway, his waist wrapped in a towel. He held up a shredded purple teddy. "Sorry."

  "You don't look sorry," I said, releasing my grip on Patrick to grab the mangled silk out of Darrius' hand.

  Patrick took the teddy from me. "I never got to see you in this one," he said morosely.

  "You've been gallivanting around my house with your brother—as dogs—chasing a cat?" I fingered the swords at my sides, drawing Darrius' amazed gaze.

  "We're wolves," corrected Darrius. "And chasing a cat is a lot of fun. Especially when it's Lucifer. She hates us."

  "I can see why." I poked Patrick in the arm. "Why aren't you all over him about being practically naked in my hallway? Huh? Your guardians flirt with me all the time and you don't try to kill them."

  "Ah. Patrick knows we cannot pursue you. A shape-shifter can only mate with another shape-shifter. We are not compatible with other humanoids." Darrius' smile faded. "It is one of the reasons our species is dying out."

  "One of the Consortium's goals is to figure out how to revitalize the lycan population." Patrick put his arm around me and pulled me into another embrace. I have to admit, it felt great to be held so securely.

  "Darrius, I'm sorry." I wasn't sure what else to say. Hey, it totally sucks that you're part of an almost extinct race of mythical beings?

  "Thank you, Jessica. We are hanging on, though there are only a few thousand of us left, and we don't have many females. Our children… we are lucky if they live a year."

  "That's horrible!" My heart ached for him, for Drake, for the wehrs. "Is the Consortium close to finding a cure or a horde of females or something?"

  "We're working on it," said Patrick, "and it's one of the reasons we want to create a community here. So we can raise families in true security."

  Surely he was thinking of Dairine and their children—how he'd lost them to ignorance and violence. I wrapped my arms around him and tried to wish him free of all misery. He'd lost so many people whom he loved. I was so sad for him. I wanted him to never suffer again. But that wasn't the way life worked, not even the life of a vampire.

  Is fear rith maith ná drochseasamh.

  And that means what?

  A good run is better than a bad stand.

  Oh. And that means what?

  It means, Jessica, that life is about choices. Sometimes you fight, sometimes you flee, but you never surrender.

  "We understand, liebling," said Drake. "Truly we do."

  In the high school gym, I sat with Drake and Darrius on the bleachers. Patrick was off with Stan doing something with the evil PDAs. As we waited for the rest of the Consortium members to arrive, I lectured the D-men on how to act in front of my kids.

  "Let's go over it again, shall we?"

  "We will not shape-shift in front of your children unless it's an emergency," said Drake.

  "And if it is an emergency, we will try to find a place to hide, or, if that isn't possible, we will change so that they see our backsides," added Darrius.

  I stared at Drake. He rolled his eyes. "I did not 'flop around' in front of Jenny. I was behind the couch and she was on the stairs. She saw only my head." He pointed at his skull. "This one! On mein shoulders!"

  "I know." I waved at them. "Continue."

  "We will keep shorts or jeans stashed in many locations so that when we shift back into human form, we'll be able to cover our woobies," said Darrius.

  "Excellent." I looked at Drake and smiled benignly. "How's your rear end?"

  "Sore," he groused. "Not even Brigid would heal the scratches from that damned cat."

  "She was too busy laughing," said Darrius. "It's a good thing your daughter didn't charge him for the German curse words, too. Mein bruder is a wealthy man, but Jenny could very soon make him
a poor one. She is an excellent entrepreneur."

  "That's one word for it," I agreed.

  "Jessica?"

  The soft female voice had me clenching my teeth. Drake and Darrius' hands strayed to the weapons on their hips and I was oddly grateful for that slightly disturbing gesture of friendship. I scooted around to face Charlene Mason. She stood next to the bleachers, looking up at me on the third row.

  "Hello, Charlene." I managed to sound civil. Goodie for me. "Guys, would you mind giving us a sec?"

  Drake and Darrius looked at me, and then at Charlene with blatant curiosity. They got up and sauntered away. The urge to yell, "Kill her! Kill her now, my minions!" was so strong I had to bite my tongue. I doubted they would have taken their dirks to her on my say-so. Probably.

  She twisted her hands, nervous as all get-out, and nibbled her lips. "I've applied to be the teacher for the new school that opens in September. I'm not accredited. Not yet. But I've been taking online courses and I'm close to getting my bachelor's degree."

  I was stunned. I had no idea Charlene had been trying to get an education while working at a low-paying job and raising a baby. I didn't want to be, but I was impressed. Impressed enough to almost respect her efforts. But I don't suppose I had enough forgiveness in me to gloss over the fact she'd been my husband's mistress.

  "I was taking online college courses before I started working for Rich. That was just supposed to be a part-time job… and well, it turned into a full-time job and I quit college."

  Her words reminded me that almost twenty years ago, I had been the receptionist at Matthews Insurance. I worked there part-time, too, while I attended community college, which had been a long drive to Tulsa three times a week, and decided who to date next. Rich's daddy owned the little business and as soon as his son earned an MBA, Mr. Matthews brought him in as a full partner. Rich and I started going out, we fell in love, and I quit college and married him. A year later, I was pregnant with Bryan, and happy to be little Suzy Homemaker, complete with a husband who didn't want me to work a 9-to-5 job.

  And here was Charlene, living her future the way I had lived my past. Except now, she was doing it alone. She didn't have a husband or a house or a cent. But she had gumption and plenty of it.

  "Why didn't you leave?" I asked. "Surely life would've been better for you somewhere else."

  "My son will never know his daddy except through this town and these people." She hesitated. Maybe she thought talking to me was wrongheaded. Maybe it was, but for once, I wanted to hear what she had to say. "I guess that's not the case anymore, not with all the humans moving out and the other folks moving in. All the same, Rich was born and raised here. I figured his son should be, too."

  I didn't want to like her. Or rather I didn't want to remember that I liked her. How many times had Charlene eaten dinner with my family? Or taken my kids for ice cream? She helped me plan Rich's fortieth birthday party. By that time, the affair had been going on about two months. Rich turned forty and a month later, we were supposed to celebrate sixteen years of wedded bliss.

  "You want me to say that I wrecked your marriage?" asked Charlene. "That you and Rich were happy and I seduced him away from his family?"

  "Did I ever say those things to you? I don't recall." Somehow I couldn't quite work up the usual fury. "I'm not a fool, Charlene. No matter how I felt about my marriage to Rich, he obviously wasn't happy. He never once told me he wanted something different. I think that's what pissed me off the most. I never got a chance to fix whatever was wrong between us."

  "I did seduce him."

  I looked at her sharply. She met my gaze though I could see it about killed her to do it.

  "He was a good man. A handsome man. And I wanted what you had, Jessica. A family. A home. A husband who loved me and took care of me."

  "It takes two," I said, shaken by her confession.

  "Or it takes one who's really damned persistent. I've lived with my shame. The shame of what I've done. He told me at his birthday party that night. Ended it. Said I could keep my job, but only if I never made another move on him."

  I tried to take in what she was saying, tried to understand her reasons for admitting to me what wasn't true. Rich had given in to temptation. Did it matter if he initiated the affair or simply gave in to Charlene's offer? "I appreciate you lying—either to make me feel better or to get that teaching job. You might as well stop, girl. What's between me and Rich is gone. And I can't change the outcome."

  "I'm not lying," said Charlene. Her lower lip trembled. "I'm selfish. I wouldn't give you the comfort of a lie. I wanted Rich all to myself." She rubbed her hands on her jean shorts then clenched her fists. "He was going to take you to Hawaii for your wedding anniversary. A surprise. But I had one for him, too. I made him meet me at the Motel 6. I knew Linda's little sister worked the night shift and made sure she'd seen us so that she'd call you."

  Emily had called me that night. I remembered that now. And Charlene had planned it? She had not only tried, but had actually managed to pry apart my marriage. What did that say about me and Rich? That we were human and prone to stupid mistakes? Or that we didn't love each other enough to trust or to forgive?

  "He was a good man. But he was still a man," Charlene continued. "Enough temptation and even a good man will do the wrong thing. He caved, and you got there just in time to see him do it. I'd already dropped my little bomb. I was pregnant—two months along. Even when he stood there and told you he was leaving, the minute you walked out the door, he changed his mind. He wanted to go to you. Wanted me to tell you how I trapped him with his own lusts."

  She sounded disgusted, but I didn't know if it was because she felt the weight of her own actions or because Rich had wanted her to face up to the consequences of what they'd done.

  "God, Charlene. I threw him out." I pressed my fingers to my temples. "I was so angry. Lord-a-mercy, I'd never felt that kind of anger before in my life. Everything shattered. Because of you."

  "Yes," said Charlene. "Because of me. Rich moved in with me and tried to make it work. He got a lawyer because you got one, but I knew he didn't want to divorce you. Didn't want to lose his family. He loved y'all."

  My insides crumbled into dust and the cold hollow left filled up with acid. It burned me, burned me until I wanted to scream, but I clenched my teeth together and swallowed the barbed knot lodged in my throat.

  "He would've done right by me if I had let him go. He'd've supported the baby, took care of me financially. But I kept hanging on, tooth and nail. I was scared. So scared, I couldn't admit I was making him miserable," said Charlene. "What's worse? Killing a man or killing his spirit?"

  "I don't know," I said softly. How should I feel about Charlene's disclosure? Everything I had believed about Rich… everything I had allowed myself to think about him… hadn't been true. Well, he had fucked Charlene. Was that something that could've been forgiven? He hadn't left us, hadn't wanted to end our marriage. He hadn't wanted Charlene. At least not forever. All this time, my anger and self-righteousness had clouded my mind and poisoned my heart.

  "The night he died? He wasn't going to the hospital." Charlene sounded like every word was being pulled from her by force. Her jaw clenched, but she got ahold of herself. "We had a terrible argument. He told me that he loved you, that he wanted his life back. He said he'd rather beg your forgiveness for the rest of your days than spend another minute with me."

  I saw the truth in her eyes. And I knew it was the truth, because glittering along with it was a big ol' helping of shame. All this time I'd felt like the bitchy wife who hated the poor, young, single mother who'd committed the sin of loving the same man I did. No matter how young or how pretty or how conniving she'd been, Rich had wanted me.

  "You tell me this now, when I can't take back what I said, what I did. We were so hateful to each other. That's what I had in my heart for that man. Hatred. And before you, I loved him. Together, we had created something good together. Something wonderful."
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br />   "That's true enough," she said softly.

  Hadn't I just been thinking about building a bridge to Charlene? Wasn't it time to heal wounds and begin again? I had to rethink what happened with Rich and what that meant to me.

  What about Patrick? I loved him. In a desperate, terrifying, oh-my-God way. My feelings for him weren't comfortable or serene. But maybe love wasn't supposed to wrap around you like an old comfy robe all the time. To love strongly meant taking risks. Was I ready to risk for Patrick?

  "I figure you'll protest."

  I blinked down at Charlene, startled out of my thoughts. "Protest?"

  "Yeah. I understand why you wouldn't want me teaching Bryan and Jenny same as I understand why you don't want 'em to know their little brother. But I'm applying for the teaching job," Charlene reiterated, with steel in her tone. "You go on ahead and try to stop me."

  She turned around and stalked away, chin tipped and shoulders straight. I watched her leave, feeling like she'd punched me in the stomach.

  Well, now. Charlene sure had issued a challenge.

  So what was I gonna do about it?

  Chapter 20

  "We cannot keep protecting your brother just because he is the son of Ruadan!" roared Ivan Taganov.

  Patrick looked at the big Russian, one brow quirked. Ivan reminded me of a snorting bull, pawing the ground, just waiting for the hapless bullfighter to step into the ring.

  The meeting had been in session for ten whole minutes and it wasn't going well. The announcement about Sharon's death had been received poorly, particularly by Linda, who kept siding with Ivan. I didn't know if she agreed with him because she figured Lorćan was the bad guy or if she felt compelled to support her Master's viewpoint.

  We all sat in a circle of chairs like we were having group therapy for the damned. I sat between Patrick and Darrius. On Patrick's right was Stan and on Darrius' left was Drake. Stan, Linda, Marybeth, and Ivan filled up one side of the circle. François, Brigid, Johnny, and the rest of the Panel of Doom members filled up the other side. Completing our little Dante's ring was the Broken Heart Turn-bloods. (We were thinking of starting a band with that name. I've always wanted to play the drums.)