I'm the Vampire, That's Why

by Michele Bardsley

  "You okay?" she asked.

  "Yeah. Just another day in the exciting life of a vampire housewife."

  "Where's your Irish cutie?"

  "With Lor." I joined Linda on the swing and for long, sweet moments we sat side by side and swayed.

  "Remember when we used sit on your porch in the mornings with coffee, gossiping and eating those cookies from Betty's Bake Shop?" Linda laughed. "Now, here we are, dead as a doornail, swinging in the dark without caffeine or sweets to tide us over.. Seems a shame we can't have a damned carb now and then."

  "It's like being put on a permanent diet of tomato juice," I agreed. "I still miss Betty's gingerbread roll. Too bad she wouldn't leave the recipe when she closed up shop and moved to Florida."

  For a moment, the air seemed weighted with our grievances. Or maybe it was just the humidity.

  "I guess we could sit all night and list the things we'll miss," said Linda. "But I don't want to jaw about what's gone."

  Her tone had gone soft, wary. I felt tension emanate from her. I said nothing, waiting for her to talk. A light wind rustled the leaves of the weeping willow in my front yard. And as always, the gorgeous scent of honeysuckle filtered in with the welcome breeze.

  "You know that binding thing?" Linda asked. "If you have sex and share blood and magic… well, you're hitched for a hundred years."

  "Yeah," I said. "I know. And I'm trying to avoid that particular state with Patrick." I looked at her profile and saw that she was gnawing on her bottom lip. "What are you saying, Linda? Are you binding with someone?"

  "Ivan," she admitted.

  Shock chilled me to the bone. I couldn't speak for a full minute. Then I said, "What?"

  "Lookie here, girl, I know you don't like him. And he sure don't like you. And I'm sorry for that, but he's really just a big ol' teddy bear. And… he wants me."

  "Okay. Well… okay. Do you want him?"

  "Of course I want him!" Linda fluffed her hair then tapped her nails against her neon-pink capris. Her anger was palpable, but I wasn't sure if she was mad at me or the world. "Ivan's rich. He's an older vamp, too, so he's got some status, some power. And he'll claim Marybeth and protect us both forever. A hundred years seems a long time to me, but it's really just a blink of the eye for vampires."

  I mentally chewed on her words, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't piss her off. But hell, everything I wanted to say would spin her into anger, so I figured I should say what I meant. "I hear you, Linda. I hear you talk about money and status and protection."

  "I never had your kind of life," said Linda. "You had a man with a steady job. He made a good wage and kept you in a pretty house. Bought you a car. Paid for your kids' summer camps and karate and ballet lessons."

  "Every rose has thorns," I said. I had forgiven Rich. It seemed wrong to keep bellyaching about his mistakes. While the truth was that he'd slept with Charlene and gotten her pregnant, that shouldn't be his defining moment in our lives. I didn't hate him anymore. And because I didn't, I was free.

  "Rich screwed up at the end. But for nearly sixteen years, he stood with you. That's saying something." Her long nails drummed the wood seat. "I worked all kinds of shitty jobs because I don't have skills or smarts. I ended up as Patsy's nail girl because I got steady hands and an extensive collection of polish. Now, I got a chance to live like a queen. Why shouldn't I?"

  From Linda's perspective, I supposed that Ivan seemed like an ice cream cone on a hot, summer day. But, still, it didn't seem right, this union between my friend and that big-mouthed crazy Russian.

  "What about love?" I asked.

  "What about love?" Linda bristled. "I loved Earl and he was a cheating piece of shit. You loved Rich and same goes. Think about it, Jessie. Think about being with a man who will always be faithful and who will always protect you." She looked at me, a fever in her gaze, a brightness that reflected manic hope. It scared me, that look. "You love Patrick. And you're not binding with him," she pointed out, as if my decision not to bind for love justified her decision to bind for security.

  "It's more complicated," I said. "He wants more of a soul mate forever thing. Besides, I don't think it's fair to him, me having kids and all."

  "Jessie, honey, that doesn't make any sense."

  "When Patrick was human, he had a family. But his wife and children were murdered—the same night he was Turned."

  "Oh. Oh, honey. That's terrible." Linda patted my shoulder and I accepted the comfort, even though it was really Patrick who warranted the empathy. "Tell me, Jess. How do you feel about losing Jenny and Bryan?"

  "Like my soul would be ripped out. That my life would be empty and hollow and meaningless."

  Linda nodded. "Sure enough. Patrick's managed to live a thousand lifetimes feeling the same way. Seems to me that you're the one scared. And you're using Jenny and Bryan to push away Patrick. He needs time is all. So do you. Both of you've got enough baggage to put Paris Hilton to shame."

  "Ha ha." Was Linda right? Was I protecting my kids? Or using them as the buffer from making a decision that scared the hell out of me?

  "You should ask 'em."

  "Ask Patrick? Ask him what?"

  "Not Patrick. Your kids. Sit 'em down and lay it out. Get their feelings about what's going on."

  "They don't get to decide who I date," I said.

  "Yes, they do. If you're using 'em as an excuse to not be with Patrick, then they are deciding who you date."

  "Quit making sense," I groused. I launched the swing a little harder than necessary and Linda's head snapped back. She glanced at me with a little grin. And I grinned sheepishly back.

  "Tell you what. I'll think about what you said. But… oh Linda, I don't know about Ivan," I said, hoping she had softened enough to really listen to me.

  "Don't start, Jessie. Like I said, he's got treasures stashed all over the world and a palace in Russia."

  "La-de-freaking-da!"

  Linda stood up, so agitated that she started pacing the length of the porch. "Ivan's my Master. I may not love him, but he's better than Earl."

  "Oh Linda! Every man is better than Earl."

  "Shut your mouth. He's still Marybeth's daddy."

  I jumped off the swing and turned to face Linda. "I'm not the one who shot at Marybeth's daddy with a .38 Special!"

  Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me. The fury in her eyes died, replaced by merriment. She cackled and slapped her thigh. "I sure as shit did and I'd do it again. Damned near winged him."

  I laughed with her. "Yeah. That was some shooting, Calamity Jane." I leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed, and met Linda's gaze. "You really want to marry Ivan?"

  "Guess so."

  "What about Stan?"

  Surprise etched her face. "Stan?" She shook her head, bemused. "He's a sweet guy, Jessie. I like him. But he's not for me. He's too smart. I can't understand half of what he says when he's talking. And he's not… well, he just doesn't have a spine. Hell, I've fought off gnats that were more vicious than him."

  "Sounds like you've been thinking enough about him to come up with all those qualities." My gaze flicked to the front door where Stan stood, his hand still on the handle.

  "Don't forget he's a human," said Linda. "And there's no way I'd Turn anyone. No way would I condemn someone to this kind of life."

  "I see your point."

  Stan reversed direction, his expression full of hurt and heartache, and pulled shut the door. Linda, for all her vamp senses, didn't notice the man had heard all the things she'd said about him. Poor Stan.

  "So, look. I'm gonna bind to Ivan. And there's a ceremony and stuff. I want you to be there. I've been making arrangements. So, everything's set for tomorrow."

  "Okay," I said. "Have you done the deed yet?"

  "No." She cleared her throat. "Ivan wants to make it all official after the wedding." Her hands fluttered like escaped birds. "I'm kinda nervous about that part."

  "It's like riding a bicycle," I s
aid with a straight face. "Or so I've heard."

  She cackled again. "I think my parts have gone rusty." She paused. "You gonna be there, Jessie?"

  "No offense, babe, but I'm not watching you have sex with Ivan."

  "Smart ass. You know what I meant."

  "If Ivan is who you want… if marrying him is what you want… then I'll be there to toast to your happiness."

  Linda nodded her thanks. "It's a double celebration," she said. "Our wedding and Marybeth's eighteenth birthday."

  "Wow. Good thing you died at the very youthful age of twenty-nine."

  "Damn right." She grinned at my joke, then rounded the swing and plopped onto it. I joined her and once again, we rocked. Comfortable silence weaved around us, interrupted only by the swing's creaking chains and the clicking songs of crickets. It was enjoyable to swing and stare at the lush foliage of my yard, at the weeping willow and bright colors of summer roses mixed with the hedges. All that green growth… beautiful and temporary. In no time at all, summer would end. Then winter would arrive, and all that I saw here would die, only to revive again when spring appeared. I swear to God that "Circle of Life" song from The Lion King revved in my head. Gak.

  "I can't stand knowing I'll outlive my children." My confession was surprising and painful. I wasn't sure I'd meant to vomit that information, but there it was, out in the open and stinking up the air.

  "Sucks a big ol' sour tit!" exclaimed Linda. "But think about it, Jessie. You'll know your kin for generations. The children of your children's children and on down the line. You'll be your family's guardian angel for damned near ever. Isn't that a wonderful gift?"

  I glanced at Linda with raised brows. "Have you been talking to Brigid? Because that hogwash sounds like something she'd say."

  "What? I can't have maternal insight and Earth Mother qualities?"

  She didn't sound too offended, though, so I knew I'd been right. I laughed. "Yeah, that's you, all right. Miss Mary Sunshine."

  "You're such a bitch."

  "Aw. You say the sweetest things."

  Chapter 25

  In honor of weddings and birthdays, we decorated the high school gym with yellow and white crepe paper, balloons, and roses plucked from the abandoned yards of the houses on my block.

  While the bride-to-be enjoyed an impromptu bridal shower hosted by her daughter in a corner of the gym, I directed a very sullen Stan in the placement of the cake, which I had baked and frosted.

  "Vampire wedding cake," I said, smiling, as Stan put the three-tiered chocolate and raspberry delight in the middle of the table. On either side were the two vanilla cakes I'd baked for Marybeth's birthday.

  "I'm sure it's delicious," said Stan. "But I'm not staying for the wedding."

  "Stan," I said. "If you want her, fight for her."

  His lovesick gaze meandered to where Linda was squealing over a filmy white negligee, which she held up to show the giggling women around her. The naked longing in Stan's face darn near broke my heart. "I'm a human," he said. "Just a drone. She needs a vampire. Ivan's… well, he's Ivan. And I'll be dead of old age before their binding ends."

  "Oh, hon! Isn't love worth fighting for?" I asked.

  His hound-dog gaze riveted to mine. "You ever ask yourself the same question?"

  With that stupid PDA quivering in his hand, Stan walked away, muttering as he tapped on its screen. I stood there watching him go like a lightning victim who'd been melded to the floor. It's different for me, I wanted to rail at him.

  Patrick had kissed me good-bye last night, er, this morning. He arrived a few minutes after I awoke to let me feed. Then he disappeared. Literally.

  Occasionally I'd feel him brush at my mind. And I'd brush back. I had fiddled with the idea of crawling around in his thoughts the way he did mine. But I knew I didn't have the finesse to extract what I wanted to know without Patrick figuring out what I was doing. I was probably better off trying to figure out things the old-fashioned way.

  "Ah, ma chérie, you set a lovely table." François leaned forward and sniffed the wedding cake. "It has been a long time since I yearned for dessert."

  I laughed and smacked his shoulder. "You are so full of crap. But thanks for the compliment."

  "Hey," said Johnny as he sidled next to us. "Nice cake."

  "Thanks. It's a shame neither one of you can taste it."

  Both of them grimaced and I grinned. They'd been on a blood diet too long to miss human food anymore.

  I wondered if I'd ever get to the point where I didn't miss chocolate. Hah. Never.

  With a wave, Johnny sauntered off. I saw Lucifer wend through the chairs we'd set up for the guests. As Johnny passed by her, she trotted after him. Then he stopped to chat with Ivan. The big, brash Russian looked less like a rampaging giant and more like a guy about to get married. He actually wore a black tuxedo with a red rose tucked in its lapel. His riot of hair was slicked back into a pony tail. Now, if he'd only get rid of that awful beard…

  "Alas, I must also leave your radiant presence," said François. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. Then, he, too, strode across the gym to join Ivan and Johnny. What could those three men possibly have in common to merit a casual conversation?

  The setup for wedding and birthday party complete, I crossed the room to join Linda's bridal shower. As I passed the three men, I got a whiff of the same garbage scent I'd noticed before in the gym. The door to the locker room was open. Huh. Maybe the lockers needed to be emptied. I bet they were full of moldy socks and half-eaten sandwiches. Blech.

  I wiggled myself a spot among the ladies and watched Linda open gifts. As more lingerie was taken from glittery-wrapped packages, my mind wandered.

  Nearly all of Broken Heart's human citizens had packed up and moved. We were like a ghost town… if not with spirits at least with a few of the undead. The Consortium had knocked down the Barley & Boob Barn and had poured foundations for at least two buildings. Slowly, but surely, changes were taking place. Guess that was the best and the worst aspect about life, how it was fluid and malleable. Some days, the changes were big, and some days, they were itty bitty. But nothing or no one ever stayed the same.

  "Thanks, Jessie!" said Linda, pleased as she held up the pair of ruby earrings I had given her. "They're gorgeous!" I'd bought the jewelry on a day-trip to Tulsa. I'd stashed them away thinking I'd give 'em to my mother for Christmas. I could see now that they were better suited for Linda. She liked sparkly and dangly things.

  An hour later, with guests milling about, and a nervous Linda talking to a nervous Ivan, I went in search of Patrick. I had seen him a few times in the gym, but he hadn't sought me out. I was miffed, though I shouldn't have been. I went outside and prodded our mental connection. Nothing. He hadn't taken the phone off the hook. He just wasn't answering. Okay, but we had claimed each other. Technically, he was mine for a while even without the binding.

  That was my last thought just as I spotted Patrick. He stood, his back to me, at the corner of the building. But I knew who was wrapped in his arms, because she chose to pry her foul mouth away from his neck and look at me over his shoulder. Her mouth bloodied, her gaze wide, Charlene's expression was one of panic as I marched toward them. I was going to kill her dead, this time permanently. Fury roared through me. Oh no. Not again. Not fucking again.

  "Get away from him!" I put out my palms and pushed the air in front of me. I was still five feet away, but that bitch sailed away from Patrick's embrace.

  Holy shit. I watched her fly through the air, screaming, until she hit the thick branches of an oak tree and fell to the ground.

  Patrick turned to face me, his gaze shuttered. "She's feeding, love. That's all."

  "What, a donor isn't good enough for her?" I bared my fangs at him. "But don't fucking talk to me."

  "I'm her Master and must provide for her."

  "Are you deaf? Don't. Talk. To. Me."

  I flew to where Charlene had landed. She got to her feet, shame blazing in her eyes. "
He's my Master, too."

  "I don't give a shit."

  She shook her head, looking too much like a lost little girl. "Why do you care so much, Jessica? You don't want him."

  "Yes, I do!" I shouted. "The thing is, I can't always have what I want, especially if getting what I want hurts someone else. But that's a concept you just don't get, is it?"

  Poor Charlene. Did she think that Patrick would give what Rich would not? Maybe her goal was the same as Linda's—protection, security, faithfulness. At any cost. I got pissed off all over again.

  "Rich was coming home to me. Why do you think that is?" I asked softly.

  Oh, that got her back up, all right. "Rich wasn't thinking straight. He was… confused." She licked her lips, her eyes dulling as she tried to piece together what she wanted to say. "Rich. Oh, hell. Just a warning. A warning, that was all."

  She stepped back, entranced in her memories. "He… he didn't want me. I was carrying his child. Trying to make a home for us. I… needed him. Wanted him. Wasn't I enough? Wasn't my love enough?" Her fingers plunged into her hair. Her lips peeled back and she mocked in a deep voice, "I want to go home, Charlene. I love my wife, my children. I'm sorry, honey. I'm sorry. I'll see that you get settled, that you have money."

  Patrick chose that moment to join us, standing behind me. I don't know if he meant to let me handle Charlene or meant to grab me if I attempted to wring her neck. Either way, his presence was a comfort.

  Charlene's whole body quaked like she was getting electric shock therapy. When she pulled her hands away from her head, clumps of blond hair fluttered to the ground. She didn't seem to notice. "My father owned a garage in Tulsa. Other little girls had tea parties and played dolls. I had tools and played cars."

  My stomach twisted as I watched her fall apart. It was terrible to witness, but I couldn't look away. Patrick's hands clutched my shoulders and he steadied me. But my emotions were still on a roller coaster ride. Hadn't I wanted Charlene to hurt, too? Oh God. Not like this. The poor soul was losing her mind.