I'm the Vampire, That's Why

by Michele Bardsley

  "You ever take apart the engine of a sixty-four Mustang?" she asked.

  "No," I said. "I was more the tea-party type."

  She nodded. "Yeah. Most girls are the tea-party type." She paced a square. "Don't make me tell. Don't. I don't want to. Don't make me tell."

  "Go on, Charlene," said Patrick in a soothing tone. I realized he was using glamour on her. "It's okay. You'll feel better. Don't you want to feel better?"

  "Yes. Of course. This is the only way to feel better. To explain."

  She walked the square, staring at nothing. Watching her made me dizzy, sick. I swallowed the knot of dread clogging my throat.

  "That night, when Rich said he was leaving me, I decided he wasn't going to go. So I fixed his car something good. Sure did. I was having contractions. The stress of arguing, probably. So… Rich went off in his car thinking he was going home. And I went off in mine to the hospital knowing he wasn't going anywhere."

  She stopped pacing, and looked at me, tears streaking her face. "It was an accident. I don't know what happened. I just wanted him to stay. But I must've… it was just supposed to stop. Get a few miles down the road and stop."

  "You… killed Rich." Shock chilled me until my teeth chattered. Patrick's arms wrapped fully around me and he pulled me against his chest.

  "That's not what I meant to do," she pleaded. "He wasn't supposed to die." Her eyes blazed in anger. "It's your fault," she wailed. "If he hadn't wanted you, I wouldn't have fixed the engine. I wouldn't have… it's your fault! Yours!"

  What the hell was wrong with her? One minute she was pathetic innocent and the next she was calculating nymph. Had she always been crazy? Had she teetered on the edge of sanity only to go over it when she'd been Turned?

  "Charlene," said Patrick. "Wouldn't you like to lie down?"

  "Yes," she said, her rage suddenly and abruptly doused. "I'm very tired."

  "Drake and Darrius are waiting for you. Do you see them?"

  "They're behind you. I'll go now."

  She trudged around us and joined the twins. They nodded good-bye and they took Charlene and headed toward the fleet of RVs in the parking lot. I hoped one had a padded room with quadruple locks. I stepped out of Patrick's embrace and turned to face him. "Does she have the Taint?"

  "No," said Patrick. "What she has is a guilty conscience and a fragile psyche."

  "How did you know that she… that she killed Rich?"

  "I didn't. I realized she was trying to work up the nerve to tell you something important. So I helped a little."

  "Could you make her use a donor from now on? I can't stand the thought of her fangs in your neck."

  "I'm sorry, Jessica. I won't allow her to feed from me if it soothes your mind."

  "Or touch you."

  "Or touch me." He smiled. "Are you okay?"

  I knew he was asking about how I felt now that I knew Charlene had, accidentally or purposely, caused Rich's death. It was shocking. Horrible. And something I would never tell my children. But knowing why he'd died wouldn't change the fact that he was gone. "I made my peace with Rich and the life we had together. Knowing the truth won't bring him back. And there's something else you should know…"

  He waited and I couldn't get my tongue to work. Then he prodded, "What?"

  "I've been thinking on it. What happened between me and Rich. Truth is, Patrick, even if he had come home and begged for another chance… it was too late. I was mad and grieving, but I'd already changed inside. Already made room for something different. Something new. What I'm trying to say is that… okay, what happened sucked. It was painful. And I didn't want to go through it. But no matter how it happened, it was meant to be so."

  "You believe that, Jessica?"

  "Yes. Because I was meant…" I licked my dry lips, my nerves jumping. "I was meant for you."

  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me until I damned near melted. I wished I could give him more than my words. But, for now, we had this moment. And damn, that man could kiss!

  When I could think again, I said, "Isn't it interesting that Drake and Darrius were just moseying on by?"

  Patrick smiled sheepishly. "Uh… they were following you."

  "What?"

  "I asked them to watch out for you. Every time you go somewhere by yourself, you get into trouble."

  "I don't need baby-sitters!"

  "Yes, you do." He kissed me again, and this assault was far more brutal than the last. Heat licked through me until I felt completely ablaze. I clung to him, meeting his lips, thrusting my tongue against his, and wanting… oh God, did I ever want.

  The thing is, I can't always have what I want, especially if getting what I want hurts someone else.

  My words to Charlene. My mind wasn't going to give me a break no matter how much my heart wanted Patrick. Damn it. Reluctantly, I broke the kiss.

  "I love you, Patrick."

  In his silver gaze, I saw truth. Love. Devotion. And I didn't really deserve those emotions. Or Patrick. Yet, he drew me into his embrace and said, "I love you, too."

  "I'm glad," I said, my heartache giving way to dry sobs. "I know it's wrong and unfair to say the words… because… because…"

  "I know, céadsearc. I already know."

  The ceremony for Ivan and Linda was short and sweet. Then the party swung into full gear and for two solid hours we danced and laughed and remembered what it was like to enjoy life.

  We took a short break to see Marybeth blow out the candles on her cake and open her presents. After the last gift was unwrapped, the illusive Damian and his security team shepherded all the kids to my house for the ultimate sleepover, which included junk food, bad movies, and loud music. I suspected there might also be water-balloon wars and food fights, but I was having too good a time to lecture Jenny and Bryan on appropriate behavior.

  Until Charlene came to her senses, Patrick and I agreed that Rich, Jr. would stay with me. It was time Bryan and Jenny got to know their little brother. If Charlene would allow it, maybe we could arrange visits for the siblings. I don't know how Jenny and Bryan would see Richie without extensive contact with his nutso mother, but we'd work it out.

  For now, my only worry was getting through this slow dance with Patrick. It was killing us to touch each other, to feel so intensely tender about one another, and yet know, in our heart of hearts, that we had no future. Then again, I was the one who believed we had no future. I tell you, I was tired of pondering it. So, I gave myself up to the moment, to Patrick, and soaked in every glorious second.

  Brigid's sudden appearance put a real crimp in my enjoyment. Patrick and I stopped dancing and leaned in to hear what she wanted.

  "Have you seen Drake or Darrius?" she asked. "Damian has lost contact with his brothers."

  "First, I am not the D-men's secretary," I said. "Second, who the hell is Damian?"

  "I am."

  Next to Brigid was the spitting image of Drake and Darrius. I squinted at him and noticed his hair was a touch shorter and lighter than either of his… brothers? "No way. There are three of you? You're triplets?"

  Damian's brows rose and his lips thinned. Humor flashed in his eyes, but it dissipated like mist exposed to sunlight. I realized this guy wasn't as soft as his brothers. He was different. Hard-hearted. More controlled. But man-oh-man, he was just as beautiful and buff as Drake and Darrius.

  Jessica, I don't wish to tolerate your lustful mental descriptions of other men.

  Then quit poking in my head.

  You're broadcasting it.

  I don't lust after them. They're cute, sure. But you're the one I want to fuck.

  I felt his hands squeeze my waist so I looked into his eyes. It was painful to watch, that thick desire swirling in his gaze. Then he brought the emotion to me, infused my body with it so that I knew how he felt.

  Oh God. It was… beyond lust. Beyond love. So intense. So beautiful. So sad. I almost couldn't stand the roiling emotion, but it was familiar, his need. So, I gathered my own and p
ushed the energy into him. And we stood there, oblivious to everyone, and created unquenchable fires that consumed us, ravaged us, but denied us even the smallest pleasure.

  "We're… uh, just gonna go," said Damian. "Obviously, you two are busy. Or will be."

  Vaguely, I realized Damian had taken Brigid's arm and led her away from us, but I couldn't break away from Patrick.

  Patrick's fingers wove into my hair and he tugged my head back. "I want to be inside you so badly right now, I can think of nothing else."

  He bit me.

  Right there, in the middle of the gym with vampires and humans bebopping around us, and our lust already raging out of control, Patrick sank his fangs into my neck.

  It was like having sex in public.

  He wrapped me in his arms, and pressed me close. His hard-on slid in the vee of my thighs and pushed against my clit.

  My world spun.

  I grabbed onto Patrick as he drank from me and tried to find purchase. But I had stepped off the cliff. The air rushed around me, my stomach dipped and crumpled as I fell. Lights exploded in my head.

  Trembling in his arms, silently giving my submission to him, the orgasm detonated. I went limp, my moan drowned out by the music.

  He wrenched away from my neck, his gaze silver fire, and scooped me up.

  Within the blink of an eye, he'd taken us outside. In another, he'd flown us to the roof.

  Before I realized what was happening, Patrick had taken off my dress, panties, and swords, then pressed his mouth against my vulva. "Jessica," he whispered, his lips erotically moving against my flesh. "Just this once, I want the privilege of a mate."

  "Please," I murmured.

  His fangs pierced me, his tongue flicking my clit as he siphoned blood from the most intimate part of me. If his hands hadn't steadied my thighs, I would've fallen to my knees. As it was, I held on to his skull with quivering hands and tried to keep upright.

  Sensation wasn't a big enough word to describe what I felt. Pleasure nowhere near covered the phenomenon, either. Erotic energy pulsated, heated, plunged me into pure bliss. It was endless, this indescribable feeling. Good thing I was already dead because I don't think anyone alive could handle this kind of excruciating joy.

  The orgasm imploded. I shattered into a million pieces, unable to collect the splinters of the person I'd been.

  Then there was Patrick, my beloved mate, picking up the shards, fitting them back together so that once again, I existed.

  When I came to, I was fully clothed, sitting in Patrick's lap, his arms wrapped around me, his face buried in my hair.

  I loved Patrick. I lusted for him and no other. I would walk the rest of my days alone because I wouldn't choose him over my children and I would never choose another man over him. Though I knew all these things…

  Only now, only after this… did I finally understand the concept of soul mate.

  "Céadsearc," he whispered, "thank you."

  "I should be thanking you," I said, trying to find my footing on old ground. There'd been an earthquake in my very soul. I don't think I'd ever feel whole again. Not without Patrick. "That was…" I hesitated. "I don't think there's a word for it."

  "There's one," he said, his head lifting. "Sonuachar."

  Tears shone in his eyes. Diamonds scattered on silver. I gasped, my hands cupping his jaw. "Oh, Patrick." .

  "Tá mo chroí istigh ionat," he whispered, smiling. "My heart is within you."

  How lovely it might've been if the evening had concluded with those words. That was the kind of lovelorn phrase a girl could turn over in her mind as she fell asleep and dreamed about happy endings.

  But nope—I didn't get a romance book.

  I got a horror novel.

  The building shook. Then a whooshing roar busted off the metal doors and shattered all the windows.

  And before I could scream, "Oh shit!" the roof gave way beneath our feet.

  Chapter 26

  Patrick whisked us off the roof and away from the crumbling building.

  "Oh my God." I couldn't get my bearings. "What is it? What's going on?"

  "Wraiths," said Patrick. "They've bombed the gymnasium."

  "Bombed? Bombed!" Comprehension rushed through me. Jesus, God. The children. My house. No. No! "We've gotta get to the kids. Oh my God. My babies."

  He settled us in a copse of trees several hundred yards away from the gym. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Jessica! Stop, love. Damian knows what to do. The children are fine. Okay?"

  "You've got to let me check the house."

  "Use your connection to the kids. You'll see."

  I couldn't calm down long enough to do such a simple thing. Patrick rubbed my shoulders until the fear receded.

  Finally, I connected with Bryan and Jenny. They were fine. Really excited about a road trip and wreaking serious havoc on Patrick's bus.

  "They're all in your RV. Where the hell are they going?"

  "A contingency location. We've been prepared for the possibility of a Wraith attack."

  "Hel-lo. They just fucking blew up the high school gymnasium and everyone in it!" I tried to calm myself. "So does this mean the Wraiths survived the cave-in? Or are these guys like… I don't know, back-up Wraiths?"

  "I don't know." His eyes went dark, lethal. Any Wraith who ventured into his path wouldn't live long.

  I unsheathed my swords, then together we rose into the air and flew toward the smoking ruins of Broken Heart High School.

  Chaos reigned in the parking lot. People ran to and fro, shouting, and after a minute of watching, I realized it was organized chaos. Apparently, any fighting that had occurred was over.

  Good Lord. The gymnasium was a smoldering pile of rubble. The flames had been put out, but smoke still filled the air—a silent ghost wailing the loss of its body.

  "Where are the Wraiths?" I asked Patrick.

  "Gone," said Damian as he joined us. "A hit and run, mostly. Looks like you missed a few when you destroyed their hideout." Damian's eyes flashed and I damned near swallowed my tongue in fright. Thank goodness I wasn't a Wraith. I sure as hell wouldn't want to be on Damian's bad side.

  Patrick grimaced. "They are cockroaches—it isn't surprising a few squirmed away."

  "They're not as sneaky as they think. We had enough warning to get everyone out, but we couldn't find you two." He looked at the swords I still held, his gaze curious. Oh, right. I slipped them into my hip holster.

  "Everyone's accounted for?" asked Patrick. We'd reached the only RV left in the parking lot. I assumed that all the rest had hauled ass, going who knew where.

  "There's a human missing… Marybeth Beauchamp. Right before the blast, I found Drake and Darrius—unconscious and locked in a security RV. It looks like Charlene escaped."

  My stomach dipped. "Shit. You're just full of good news, aren't you?" I chewed my lower lip. "Who's searching for Marybeth?"

  "We have several security teams sweeping the area, but they've come up empty," said Damian. "It'll take a while to get through the debris, but everyone who mentally probed the building agrees there is no one trapped in it." He nodded to the RV. "Stan got hurt. He looks bad."

  I looked at Patrick. His jaw clenched. Stan had called himself a drone, but I know Patrick thought of him as a friend. And you know what? So did I.

  As we entered the RV, I realized it was a medical facility. A human female in a white uniform sat at a minidesk, tapping the keys of a laptop. "Go on," she said. "They're in there."

  We entered the room. On the left side, hooked up to wires and tubes, lay Stan, the one human casualty. Beside the bed stood Linda, looking like her whole world had been ripped in half.

  "Did you find Marybeth?" she asked, anxious.

  "No," I said gently. "But we will, hon."

  She gazed bleakly at us. "She turned eighteen tonight. Helluva birthday party." She leaned down and stroked Stan's forehead. "Look at him. He's so pale. God. Poor Stan."

  "How bad is he?" I asked.r />
  "Real bad." Her voice broke, but she stuffed a fist to her mouth and tried get ahold of herself.

  I exchanged a glance with Patrick. He nodded then put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't you feel tired, Linda?"

  "Don't try to glamour me." She shrugged off his hands and stooped to drag the thin white blanket up to Stan's chin. "I'll stay here with him. You go find my Marybeth."

  Feeling dismissed, we trooped off the bus and stood in the parking lot looking helplessly at each other. The acrid smell of smoke clung to the air. People milled around the parking lot, some looking through the debris, others picking up pieces, and a few with big, black guns ringed the perimeter.

  The cell phone on Damian's hip beeped. He picked it up and flipped it open. "Damian."

  "We found Marybeth. She's been injured, sir," said the disembodied male voice.

  "Damn it! Was it the blast?"

  "No, sir. She's been clawed by some kind of animal. Her torso looks like spaghetti. She's alive, but I don't think she'll make it."

  Oh my God! Clawed? That meant Georgie the insane lycan had escaped the cave-in. Was he attacking humans for the hell of it? Or because Ron had also escaped and told his pet to hurt Marybeth?

  "Give me your location," said Damian.

  "The edge of the soccer field," said the voice. "We've been through this area twice already. We found her on the third sweep."

  "So, she was attacked then dumped. Stay there. We're on our way."

  We hurried across the parking lot and the soccer field. A group of men who looked like the vampire SWAT ringed the still, pale body of Marybeth. I noted that the only one not in uniform had blond hair and silver eyes.

  Lorćan.

  The men parted, fanning out to give us room and protection. Glittering green orbs floated around her. I poked at one. My finger went right through it and tingled from its pulsating energy.

  "Fairy lights," said Lor. "A specialty of mine."

  We kneeled around Marybeth. She'd been covered with a blanket that looked like a big sheet of aluminum foil. I'd seen those before on a show about avalanches. Thermal blankets. As he lifted it away, the material crankled noisily. I had to swallow down my gorge, but at least the wounds didn't look as bad as those on Emily or Sharon. Marybeth might have a chance.