by Trisha Baker
Why did she do it, Jimmy asked himself for the umpteenth time? Why would Maggie willingly embrace the monster who, according to her, ripped her away from her mortal life and thrust her into a life of sexual and spiritual bondage for thirteen years until she finally managed to get away from him? How many times had Maggie told him she hated Simon Baldevar and was fiercely glad she killed him, or thought she did?
If she was so happy to be free of Baldevar, then how the hell could she have stood before Jimmy a year ago, her body swollen with the bastard's child, tearfully confessing to Jimmy that she loved Simon Baldevar and Jimmy should just forget about her.
Jimmy, of course, had done nothing of the sort. He insisted Baldevar had used his power to warp Maggie's mind, bewitched her somehow. If Baldevar was dead, Jimmy knew Maggie would be free of his hold over her and start behaving like herself, instead of the simpering ditz Baldevar had reduced her to.
Baldevar had accepted Jimmy's challenge and they'd started to go at it but Maggie placed herself between them in an effort to stop the fight and wound up getting knocked to the floor.
Jimmy shuddered, remembering Maggie curled up on the floor, clutching her abdomen and sobbing in pain and fear as a monstrous crimson stain spread over her white nightgown. God, Jimmy had been so sure she was dying, sure that in trying to free Maggie from Baldevar he'd managed to kill her and her unborn baby.
He guessed Baldevar had been thinking along the same lines because the vampire forgot his battle with Jimmy and rushed Maggie out of the room, some mortal doctor trailing behind him as they took Maggie to an emergency surgery they'd set up within the house.
After Baldevar spirited Maggie away, Charles Tarleton, Maggie's best friend, had urged Jimmy to leave the house before Baldevar killed him, promising to contact Jimmy at his sister's house and let him know what had happened to Maggie.
Charles kept his promise, Jimmy thought and pulled a crumpled telegram from the coat pocket of his black duster, rereading the cryptic message— Meghann is well.
Jimmy surmised that meant she'd survived, though he had no idea what had happened to her baby. Even if Simon Baldevar was the father, Jimmy harbored no ill will toward the child and prayed Maggie hadn't lost it. Jimmy knew all too well what it was to grieve for a dead child.
Meghann is well. Jimmy scowled and returned the telegram to his pocket. Sure, she might be okay physically but as far as Jimmy was concerned, if Maggie thought she belonged with Simon Baldevar she was as far from well as you could get. Someone had to talk sense into her, get her away from the asshole. That's why Jimmy had returned to his enemy's lair, to free Maggie from Baldevar's clutches.
He'd tell Maggie he understood her reuniting with Baldevar—he'd brainwashed her, that's all. He'd explain that he wanted to start over now that they were both equal vampires and Jimmy wasn't just her boy- toy mortal.
Hey, hero, an inner voice spoke up sarcastically—the same pest that had needled Jimmy all the way to New York. Do you think Baldevar's going to sit around twiddling his thumbs while you try to take his woman? You take another step closer to that house and pretty soon your head's gonna be on a spit.
Jimmy swallowed nervously, knowing the voice was right—he was no match for Baldevar. No matter how much Jimmy despised Simon Baldevar, there was no denying his power and strength—he'd crushed Jimmy like a gnat every time Jimmy went up against him. That's why he'd been so cautious since he neared the estate; Jimmy's plan was to shield his presence as he'd learned to do over the past few months and only reveal himself when he caught Maggie alone.
Jimmy heard an odd whooshing sound, felt his long hair lifted by a sudden breeze and whirled around to face Charles Tarleton, clutching a wicked looking machete he held a bare centimeter from Jimmy's neck.
"Christ, Jimmy!" Charles snapped before he could say anything. He tucked the machete against his belt, reproach plain in his jet-black eyes. "What the hell are you doing, sneaking around the house and trying to camouflage your presence? My God, man, I was almost on top of you before I realized who you were ... you were an inch from death!"
Despite the lecture, Jimmy felt some pride when he realized he'd been able to shield his identity from an older, more powerful vampire. But his shoulders slumped when he realized he'd had no inkling Charles was behind him, that his senses had given him no warning he was in danger.
"I wasn't hiding from you or Maggie. I just don't want Baldevar to know I'm here," Jimmy explained.
Charles gave him a disgusted look. "Simon would have felt your presence the moment you set foot in Southampton if he was here. Jimmy, you shouldn't have come here; it was a foolhardy and unnecessary risk."
"Baldevar's not here?" Jimmy perked up. "Is Maggie? I've got to see her."
"Jimmy," a light voice greeted behind him and he spun around again, this time seeing Maggie holding a baby girl dressed in a purple jumpsuit, chubby little arms encircled around her mother's neck.
Jimmy's first thought was that he could have seen this baby anywhere and known she was Maggie's child simply by looking at the spring green eyes that were the mirror image of her mother's. The baby was an adorable little thing with light brown ringlets curling under her ears, creamy skin and faint pink roses in her cheeks. He had a sudden impulse to pat one of those cheeks but held back, seeing in her expression the same wariness Jay had always displayed around strangers. Jimmy knew one sudden move toward her and the baby would probably burst into tears.
"Uh, she's scared of strangers?" Jimmy asked Maggie, seeing under her easy friendliness a certain caution—she wanted to know how he was going to react to this child she'd had with Simon. Jimmy knew Maggie well enough to know that if she thought for one minute he'd resent the baby because of its paternity, he'd lose any chance he had to reconcile with her.
"I don't know," Maggie replied after a slight pause, seeming satisfied that there was no hostility in his attitude toward her baby. "You're her first new person. Aside from the cleaning women, Ellie's only seen me and Charles and Lee since she was born. Oh, Jimmy, you never really met—this is Dr. Lee Winslow. He and Charles were . . . uh, they went out for a while and now they're together again. When we found out I was pregnant, Charles contacted him. He's an excellent obstetrician and he was more than willing to care for a vampire patient. If it weren't for Lee, Ellie and I might have died in that premature labor. Now he watches out for Ellie during the day."
Jimmy shook the outstretched hand of the middle- aged man standing next to Maggie and then turned to the baby. "Ellie? Is that your name . . . are you Ellie?"
"I'm Ellie," the baby replied solemnly and Jimmy laughed, eliciting a small smile from the baby.
"She talks already?"
"She started talking at six months," Maggie explained proudly. "Her development is far above average, Ellie already..
"All right, Meghann," Charles said, smiling for the first time and turning to Jimmy. "Don't let her get started on Ellie's virtues—we'll stand here all night."
"I was only going to say she speaks on the level of a three year old," Maggie sniffed and turned to the little girl pressing her he.ad shyly against her shoulder. "This is Jimmy Delacroix, honey. He's Mommy's friend."
Ellie braved a quick glance at Jimmy and quickly returned her eyes to the safety of her mother's shoulder.
"New," Ellie said to Maggie, her tone indicating new was synonymous with potentially dangerous in her mind.
"I know he's new to you, sweetie. But he really wants to make friends," Maggie said coaxingly. "Come on. Say 'Hi, Jimmy.'"
The baby shook her head negatively and put her small hands over her eyes, making Jimmy's heart lurch painfully. That had been Jay's trick, thinking if he couldn't see the person, they couldn't see him.
Jimmy swallowed hard and blinked back tears, trying not to think of his son, of the smile that lit up Jay's face when Jimmy returned from work and the toddler rushed at him on wobbling, clumsy little legs ...
"Sad," a tiny voice said softly and Jimmy looked
up, seeing Ellie staring at him with an expression of sympathy that was oddly adult. She pushed herself away from Maggie's shoulder and stretched her hands out to him. "Want a hug?"
"Ellie's psychic," Maggie explained at Jimmy's shock. "She feels intense emotions—knows when something's bothering someone."
"Come here," Jimmy said over the lump in his throat and smiled at the little girl that looked so concerned for him. "Jimmy definitely wants a hug."
Maggie handed him the baby and he took her carefully, one hand supporting her bottom while Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck.
He hadn't held a baby since Jay died and hadn't realized how much he missed it until his arms adjusted to Ellie's weight and he buried his nose in her sweet- smelling, baby-fine hair. Ellie returned his gaze steadily, moving one hand so it rested on his chin and in that moment Jimmy felt himself fall completely and hopelessly in love with Maggie's baby.
My baby, Jimmy decided, forcing himself not to see the chiseled features of high-bridged nose and slanting cheekbones that bespoke Ellie's paternity. From this night on, he'd never acknowledge that Simon Baldevar had fathered Ellie, from now on she belonged to him.
You 're not Jay, Jimmy told Ellie and the little girl stared into his eyes with a focus that belied the attention span normal for a baby her age. I know you're not my son and I'm not trying to replace him with you. But you 're beautiful and sweet and innocent and I want you to stay that way. I'm not gonna let that sick sonofabitch Simon Baldevar hurt you or warp you the way he tried to do to your mother and me. God help him if he tries to take you from me. I'm going to keep you and Maggie safe; I promise.
Jimmy heard a bitter laugh and looked up, seeing Maggie staring at him and Ellie with the oddest expression ... deep sadness, frustration and something that almost looked like pity.
There's nothing to keep us safe from, Maggie said tele- pathically and even in the thought conversation
Jimmy could hear her sorrow. Simon's gone and he won't be coming back.
What happened, Jimmy asked while he bounced Ellie in his arms, making her squeal with laughter. Where did he go? Why did he leave his daughter?
Because he has no use for her—I'll tell you everything later.
"Let's go inside," Maggie said aloud. "I don't want Ellie out in the cold."
Maggie led him to the study, a comfortable, homey room of overstuffed sofas, teeming bookcases, bright wood fixtures and various toys. Jimmy put Ellie down and she immediately scampered toward a large collection of matchbox cars in the corner of the room.
"Absinthe?" Maggie asked him while Ellie set up elaborate collisions, shouting exuberant vrooms and screeches at each crash.
"That's the only stuff that can get us loaded, right?" Jimmy asked, accepting the tumbler glass full of green, viscous-looking stuff.
"If you drink enough," Maggie replied and extended a bowl of sugar cubes to him. "Suck on these while you drink. You can't imagine how liberating it feels to take a drink. I couldn't have anything—cigarettes, absinthe, spicy food—while I was nursing Ellie."
'You smoke in front of the kid?"
"Outside," Maggie explained. "And in a solar where we keep the sound system; Ellie's not allowed in there. Don't eat the cars, honey." Ellie guiltily spat a miniature Camaro out and returned it to the racing course.
Jimmy took a large gulp of absinthe, choked at the unexpectedly strong, foul taste and shoved several sugar cubes into his mouth.
"You'll get used to it," Maggie laughed and licked her own cube. "Now tell me what you've done for the past year. I was so worried about you, a new vampire without anyone to counsel him. We called your sister but she told us you visited briefly around the New Year and then disappeared."
"Shit, Maggie, how long could I stay with my sister before she got suspicious? I mean, for a few days, she might accept that her whacko brother was just getting loaded and sleeping late but not getting up before sunset is weird even for me. Besides, she's living in a real remote area and there was no way I could get, um ... well, get blood without arousing suspicion."
If Maggie noticed the way he blushed when he admitted to the blood lust and refused to meet her eyes, she said nothing, merely asking, "Where did you go when you left her house?"
"I bought a mobile home," Jimmy explained and Maggie's eyebrows shot up.
"You mean you've become white trash on wheels?"
"Not all vampires are fortunate enough to have a mansion in Southampton, Princess,"Jimmy shot back and they both laughed. "It worked well enough for me. I'd park at some campground and then go to the nearest city for . . .you know."
"Jimmy," Maggie said softly and took his hand. "What's the matter? What makes you look at the floor instead of me when you speak of feeding? There's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Nothing to be ashamed of?" he cried, and Ellie looked up from her play at the loud noise. "How can you say that? We drink blood, for God's sake!"
"Only because we'd die if we didn't," Maggie replied. 'To drink in the name of survival isn't wrong ... as long as you don't kill or damage your hosts. I told you that a long time ago."
"And what if you do kill?" Jimmy whispered, his eyes on the Persian rug beneath his feet "You and Charles . . . don't you believe any vampire that kills his prey has to be destroyed?"
'Jimmy," Maggie said tenderly when the agonized shame he'd had to keep to himself for the past year overcame him and he started sobbing. She moved his head so it rested on her shoulder and started rocking him back and forth, much the same way she would have comforted Ellie if she started to cry. "Honey, I know; I know how hard it must have been. Jimmy, you don't have to tell me but if you do, I promise you've never done anything I haven't done ..."
"But you didn't know! Baldevar told you had to kill—it wasn't till you met Alcuin that you learned better! And then you never killed anymore—what excuse do I have?" Jimmy howled, refusing any sort of absolution for the awful things he'd done. In his mind, he saw the young women he'd managed to lure from the seedy bars to his narrow bed in the trailer. He remembered the sex, the one time his crushing loneliness vanished, which was fine but then there was always that tantalizing smell of blood beneath their skin and soon his fangs would emerge, frightening his dates. They'd scream but Jimmy would order them to stop (he was still amazed by his power, the effortless way he could speak a command and it was immediately obeyed) and they'd become docile while he sank his fangs into their flesh. It was always so good and sweet, the blood pouring down his throat. So much better than booze it was, the way it made his misery vanish and soothed him, made him feel so strong and untouchable. It was the best high he'd ever gotten in his life and once the blood was in his mouth, there was no way he could pull back or force moderation on himself. Despite all the promises he made before each feeding, he'd always find himself greedily lapping up every precious drop of the blood and soon he'd have to stare down in horror at the slack corpse he held in his arms. Then, like the monstrosity he'd become, he'd take his victims to some desolate field and incinerate the corpses to erase all evidence of what he'd done.
"Take Ellie," Jimmy heard Maggie say and he saw Charles scoop up the protesting child.
"No, no, no!" Ellie screeched, beating Charles's chest with her tiny fists. "Don't wanna go—I want Mommy! I don't wanna go, no!"
"Ellie," Maggie said and her stern tone cut through her daughter's tantrum. Ellie quieted but gave Charles and her mother a sulky look.
"Don't you want to play with me and Lee?" Charles wheedled. "I'll make you a peanut butter sandwich."
"Pea butter?" Ellie sniffled and gave Charles a haughty look that said she'd accept the bribe though she was still unhappy.
"Do you think it was that simple?" Maggie questioned when Charles and Ellie left. "Do you think Alcuin said 'Meghann, don't kill anymore' and that was it—I didn't need any other kind of help in resisting the blood lust?"
Jimmy wiped his face with the back of his hand, and shrugged.
"Jimmy," Maggie sa
id and grasped his hands tightly, "our way... not killing ... isn't learned easily. I can't tell you how I struggled... how I still struggle. It's like putting heroin in the hands of an addict and saying look but don't shoot. To drink blood and then have to force yourself to stop . . .Jimmy, I'd be shocked if you had been able to control the blood lust on your own. I know you've probably killed. I won't try to tell you not to feel guilty; taking life is a terrible thing. But what you should do is use your guilt to strengthen your resolve to resist the blood lust instead of taking the coward's way out and killing yourself by greeting the sunrise."
"How did you know?" Jimmy asked, disturbed by Maggie's picking up on that darkest notion of his. How many times in the past few months had he thrown open the circle window in the bedroom of his trailer near dawn, only to feel the first, agonizing pain of the sun rising—then came the scrambled frenzy to a closet or any darkened place so he wouldn't die?
"How do you think?" Maggie replied archly and gave him a bitter look. "You think I never thought of suicide? It was all I thought of before Charles found me and rescued me from Simon. I was so tired of killing, I hated myself for what I was doing but I didn't have the slightest idea of how to stop myself. . . anymore than you do right now. But Jimmy, I can help you; it's good that you came here. You can be at peace as a vampire, I promise."
"How?" Jimmy asked, feeling a stirring of hope. "How do I not kill?"
In response, Maggie stood up and beckoned him to follow her. She led him to a kitchen large enough for a restaurant and reached into the double-door refrigerator, handing him a transfusion pack of blood.
"Let it warm up for a few minutes," she instructed and sat down beside Ellie, perched in her high chair, tearing her peanut butter sandwich apart like a miniature scientist doing a dissection, instead of eating it. "Nothing tastes viler than cold blood."
