The Vampire's Favorite

by V. R. Cumming

  The cold man. Well, fuck. “Rein it in, Eric. She’s nasty sometimes, but she’s only seventeen.”

  “She knows exactly what she’s doing, Adonis. Her youth has no bearing on her malicious nature.”

  Di’s mouth snapped shut. She turned quivering lips and teary eyes on Pop, more show than sincerity.

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his head slowly. “Don’t look at me, Diana. If you’d spoken that way about your mother, you would’ve gotten the back side of my hand. Be thankful all he did was stare.”

  Eric broke his hold on Di, a nearly tangible crack against my mind, and sat down, cool as cucumber, like he hadn’t just let his beast have a poke at my sister. “My apologies, Mr. Bellmont, Mrs. Bellmont.”

  Pop grunted. “I told her that smart mouth would get her in trouble some day.”

  “Henry, please. Let’s not air our dirty laundry in front of Jason’s friend.” Ma patted Di’s back. “Go to your room now, Diana. Since you can’t treat Eric respectfully, you’ll stay here and get a head start on your chores while the rest of us run into town.”

  A tear slid down Di’s cheek, streaking her makeup. “That’s not fair, Ma. I just said what everybody else was thinking.”

  “No one else was thinking that, and we wouldn’t have said it even if we had.”

  Di’s pitiful expression melted into a glare. “Fine, I’ll go, just so I don’t have to stay here and listen to you cozy up to Jason’s fag whore.”

  Anna Grace buried her head against Eric’s shoulder, and Charity’s skin whitened under her tan. Pop pushed his chair back, scraping the feet along the floor. He wrapped a broad-palmed hand around Di’s upper arm and yanked her to her feet. “Beg pardon. My daughter and I need a word in private.”

  He strode out of the room, nearly dragging her along with him.

  As soon as they were out the door, Ma crumpled her napkin up and set it on the table beside her plate. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that, Eric. She’s normally not that bad. I don’t know why she lashed out at you.”

  Oh, I had a few notions there, including Di’s intuitive grasp of mine and Eric’s true relationship, but that wasn’t the whole story, couldn’t be. Di was rude, yeah, but she wasn’t usually crude. I’d never heard her curse before, not even when she broke one of her precious nails.

  “Perhaps it would be better if I left,” Eric said.

  “You will do no such thing, Eric Logan,” Ma snapped. “Honestly, we finally get another man around here and the first thing you do is pander to Diana’s childish penchant for drama.”

  I snorted out a laugh. “Seriously, Ma?”

  Charity’s shoulders relaxed, and Anna Grace giggled. Ma humphed and gathered her and Di’s plates together. “For that, young man, you can help with the dishes.”

  “I will,” Eric said.

  “Not this time,” Ma declared. “You will make a list of everything you and Jason need to replace today. Anna Grace can help Jason maneuver around. Charity, go put on a shirt that is completely intact and shoes that don’t have cleats, and brush your teeth while you’re at it. We didn’t spend a small fortune on braces so you could walk around with dirty teeth.”

  I ducked my head, hiding a smile. Meet Drill Sergeant Ma.

  Eric’s shoulders hunched around his ears. Remind me to stay on her good side.

  She’s a woman, lover. Her good side hides from mere, mortal men.

  Anna Grace tilted her head back. “What’s a mere mortal?”

  I jerked back. Holy hell, she’d heard us. What the fuck?

  Eric smoothed a hand over her messy ponytail, up and down in a habitual rhythm he’d developed with Emily. “It means we’re unworthy of the women in our lives, like your mother and my wife and you and your sisters.”

  Anna Grace wrinkled her nose. “Not Di. She’s bossy and mean. Ma says she’ll grow out of it soon, but I don’t think so.”

  “Little pitchers,” Ma murmured.

  Eric shrugged. “Sometimes, it takes an unguarded mind to find the truth.”

  I slumped into my chair. Anna Grace’s penchant for picking up mind-to-mind conversations didn’t worry me. It was everything else I was learning about my baby sis that did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After the dishes were cleaned up, the six of us bundled into two vehicles and headed into town. Pop, Ma, and Anna Grace took Ma’s Buick. Eric drove me and Charity in our borrowed vehicle.

  Tinted windows. Gotta love ‘em. Just in case, we’d also worn jeans and long sleeved t-shirts and brought hats and umbrellas along. The outfits were hell in the heat, but it beat accidentally frying our skin in the sunlight.

  Charity scooted forward on the backseat and rested her arms on the backs of mine and Eric’s seats. “So, Eric.”

  “Uh-oh,” I murmured.

  Eric shot a wicked grin at me. “Curiosity.”

  Charity banged the side of her fist into my shoulder. “Hushit, college boy. I got questions.”

  “You’re not old enough to know,” Eric said.

  She snorted out a laugh. “Not those kinds of questions, but if you want to talk about sex—”

  I slid my elbow around the side of the seat and gently jabbed her torso. “Cut it out, Char.”

  “A girl needs to know these things.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and refocused on Eric. “More importantly, I want to know what you did to Di.”

  “I exist,” I said.

  “I meant him, bozo. Come on, Eric, what gives? That’s the first time she’s ever been speechless in her life.”

  Eric’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I didn’t do anything to her.”

  “Liar.” She rested her chin on the back of his seat. “I won’t tell Ma and Pop, I swear.”

  “Maybe this is something you don’t need to know either,” Eric said softly. “Jason said you were playing travel ball.”

  “Eric—”

  I jabbed her again. Ms. Nosey needed a lesson in minding her own. “Let it go, Char.”

  She huffed and flopped against the back of the seat. “Fine. Just, you know, I could be an ally or something. Di’s not exactly nice to us.”

  Eric glanced at the rearview mirror. “She might grow out of that.”

  “Yeah, right. Maybe when she’s dead.”

  I skimmed a finger over my smile. Bless Charity’s bluntness. Wasn’t it just too bad for Di that both her sisters had pegged her spot on?

  We spent the entire morning shopping, mostly searching for replacements for mine and Eric’s stolen clothes and toiletries. Eric and Ma got into a deep discussion on the merits of blackout shades versus thermal curtains. Anna Grace tucked her hand into his whenever she could, and Charity flirted as often as Eric would let her.

  Pop kept to himself, his hard gaze flicking between me and Eric. It didn’t take two guesses to figure out what he was wondering. I just wasn’t ready to talk to him about it yet.

  We ate a late lunch at a corner café in Crookston, Pop’s treat, and sat in one corner squeezed together around a circular booth. I wheeled my chair into the space between the ends of the seating with my back to the door. Eric managed to snag a seat beside me. The way my sisters were carrying on, it might be the last time during our visit.

  I scowled at Anna Grace, cuddled up to Eric’s other side. “How come you and Char aren’t fighting over who gets to sit by me?”

  She smiled, a beatific angel free of earthly sin. “I just like him.”

  “What am I, chopped liver?”

  She giggled and rocked into Eric. “No, silly. You’re my big brother.”

  “Pretty sure he’s chopped liver,” Charity said.

  I pinned a sour look on her. “Thanks, Char. I’ll remember that when your birthday rolls around.”

  She stuck out her tongue. Ma shot a warning glance at her, and Charity obediently settled down.

  We hadn’t even had a chance to order when people started drifting over on their way out, mostly to say hello, some o
ut of curiosity over me being in a wheelchair. I firmed my company smile and glossed over my legs not working like they should. It really wasn’t anybody else’s business. And I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, could I?

  Halfway through lunch, Anna Grace stiffened and plastered herself against Eric’s side, her cornflower blue eyes wide. Eric glanced up and his expression morphed into speculation. I peeked over my shoulder. A man was standing just inside the café’s entrance, his caramel colored skin glistening in the restaurant’s bright lighting. He was average height, not even six feet tall, and athletic under a plain, gray t-shirt and worn jeans. He resettled a beige ball cap on his head over a military cut, then straddled a stool at the counter.

  I turned back around. What?

  I can’t read him. Eric leaned casually back and draped an arm around Anna Grace’s shoulders, his eyes trained on the stranger. Could be nothing.

  Or it could be something. There weren’t many people Eric couldn’t read. Those few were usually some form of other. Vampyr? Werewolf?

  I don’t think so. Anna Grace is terrified of him.

  I glanced at her. Her lower lip trembled and one of her arms was wrapped across his stomach. Her chubby hand was clenched into a white-knuckled fist full of his shirt. Beside her, Charity paled and inched closer to Pop.

  Ma set her fork down and aimed a stern glare at the two of them. “Leave Eric in peace, Anna Grace.”

  “She’s fine, Kathy.” Eric nodded toward the man sitting at the counter. “Do you know him?”

  Ma twisted around and peered over her shoulder. “Oh, sure. That’s Carl Landis. He’s new in town, been here, what, Henry? About six months?”

  Pop grunted. “More or less. Took a job out at the farm supply. Nice enough fellow. Doesn’t talk much.”

  Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.

  Over the rest of lunch, Charity’s normal personality ebbed back to full force, and Anna Grace gradually relaxed her hold on Eric and finished her hamburger. We left not long after. When we passed by Landis, he didn’t even blink at us. Whatever he was, whatever had caused Anna Grace’s discomfort, it didn’t show on the outside.

  That didn’t mean anything. One thing I’d learned during my time in Vampyr society? Most of the monsters looked just like everybody else. I should know. I was in love with a man who was well on his way to being one.

  We stopped by the grocery store for Ma’s weekly grocery run on the way back home. Pop went ahead as soon as he dropped Ma and Anna Grace off, claiming an urgent need to check on one of the fields. More likely, he’d simply had enough shopping to do him a while and was glad of an excuse to avoid more.

  We wandered up and down the aisles, Charity and Anna Grace acting as Ma’s gophers, Eric pushing the cart while Ma filled it. I trailed behind, content to watch the way my lover integrated himself into my family. As a kid, I’d never dreamed of being able to have an open relationship with a man, let alone of being in the kind of relationship my heart truly craved. I’d found my place with him and Gianna. My parents were going to love her, if they could just get past the whole threesome thing.

  Ok, my ma would love her. Pop was still a giant question mark.

  The grocery store was busy. Folks traipsed through in small herds searching for Saturday evening cookout ingredients. The weather was gorgeous, just shy of scorching, and the sky was sunny and blue, a great day for grilling. I talked Ma into changing supper plans in favor of her famous pepper jack hamburgers and potato salad. Charity chimed in with a plea, and that’s all it took to persuade Ma. She’d always been a soft touch when it came to cooking for us.

  Eric and I circled back through the store for meat and fixings while she and my sisters emptied the frozen foods section into the cart. Our last stop was in the fresh foods area near the store’s entrance. In the middle of a debate on how much lettuce to get, a gentle hand fell on my shoulder and a familiar voice said, “Hi, Jason.”

  I stifled a groan and wheeled around. Mike Ridgeway, my old tutor and my first male lover, was standing next to a display of tomatoes, perfectly groomed in an orange plaid, short-sleeved shirt and khakis. He smiled at me, the gentle, welcoming smile he’d given me every time I’d snuck out of the house to be with him, and his vivid blue eyes glowed with the inner light of a beacon.

  I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. Well, fuck. We’d had sex off and on for nearly two years, right up until the day I’d left for college. Not once during that time or since had I ever thought of him as anything but a handsome, ordinary man.

  And now I had to explain to Eric why I’d been in a relationship with a beacon.

  I maneuvered my chair so I could see them both. “Hey, Mike. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks. How’s college?”

  “Better, now that I don’t have to take any more English classes.” My least favorite subject and, coincidentally enough, the reason he and Eric both had entered my life. “You still angling for a teaching job?”

  “I decided to stick with tutoring. The pay’s about the same and I get to work with students one on one instead of having to deal with whole classes.” His curious gaze slid to Eric. “Mike Ridgeway.”

  Eric held out his hand and shook Mike’s. “Eric Logan, Jason’s husband.”

  I rubbed my fingers over my closed eyes, stifling the urge to cringe. What has gotten into you lately?

  Our bond thinned and a chill crept through it. He’s a pet. Why didn’t you tell me your first male lover was of the Vampyr?

  I didn’t know.

  Right. You didn’t know. Eric’s eyes flicked away, dismissing me as effectively as if he’d told me to shove off. You have a lot of explaining to do when we get back to your parents’.

  A layer of wounded hurt sifted through our bond along with the sharp retort, and I sat back in my chair. Yeah, maybe, but that didn’t explain the way he was acting.

  Eric dropped Mike’s hand. “Who are you allied with?”

  Mike tucked his fingers into his pants pockets. “I’m currently unaffiliated.”

  “No one stays that way for long,” Eric said. “Who were you working with when you tried to recruit Jason?”

  I snagged his wrist and tugged, hard. “Christ, Eric. This isn’t the place.”

  His face turned slowly toward me. The beautiful mixture of brown-green-gold in his eyes was gone, replaced by the dark, frigid stare of the cold man. His pale features might as well have been set in stone, for all the emotion they contained. “It is my right to know.”

  Mike held a hand up, a silent plea or a sign of giving in, I didn’t know. “Maybe I could drop by the Bellmont house and we can discuss this in private.”

  Eric nodded once. “Yes, of course. I shall expect you within the week.”

  “I’ll call first.” Mike’s hand fell to his side. He tilted his head in a respectful bow. “Master Eric, Jason.”

  He turned and limped slowly away, and I stared after him, confused. What had happened to him since I’d left Crookston that he’d been injured and hadn’t healed yet? Had he really tried to recruit me into the Vampyr, as Eric thought? Had that been why he’d initiated sex with me and introduced me to the pleasures men could share with each other?

  Eric leaned toward me and whispered, “Temper your thoughts of him.”

  “Can’t help where my mind goes.”

  “It will not linger on him.”

  His voice held the same quiet fury he’d directed toward Di that morning. Me? I was a helluva lot smarter than her when it came to handling Eric. I threaded my fingers through his and said quietly, “You know you and Gigi are it for me.”

  “Do I?”

  He shook my hand off, gathered the pile of food we’d accumulated for Ma, and stalked away. I followed at a much slower pace, matching the rotations of my chair’s wheels to the worry whirling around in my head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eric was subdued the rest of the day. He washed our new clothes while I helped Ma and Di get supp
er together, then retreated into our bedroom with Ma’s phone and the blackout shades we’d bought. He came back in when we were ready to eat, Anna Grace in tow, and thanked Ma for the use of her phone.

  Not once did he look at me, not through supper or the family game night that followed, not through my sisters saying their goodnights and the two of us chatting for another half hour with my parents.

  When they went upstairs to get ready for bed, I followed Eric down the hallway into our bedroom and shut the door firmly behind us. “Spit it out.”

  Eric popped the curtain rod off of one of the windows and set it aside. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “I don’t wear panties.” He measured one of the shades we’d bought that day against the window’s width and penciled screw holes on the window frame. “When were you going to tell me about Mike?”

  “Never,” I said flatly. “I don’t ask you about your past lovers.”

  “He wasn’t just any lover, was he? He was your first.” Eric threw the pencil down and stalked away from me. He paused at another window, back to me, and hunched his shoulders. “I look just like him.”

  I reared back. “What? No.”

  “Dark hair, slender build, beacons. Same facial structure, similar skin tone.” He barked out a laugh and raked a narrow hand through his already messy hair. “Jesus God, Jase, we’re even the same height.”

  Oh, shit. When he put it like that… “I didn’t know he was a beacon until I saw him again today.”

  “And that’s it? Gee, Eric, you’re nothing like my first lover because I didn’t know he was a pet?”

  “Ok, you look a lot alike him. Maybe I just have a type.”

  “Yeah, a type.” He dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, and something flashed through our bond, too quickly for me to catch. “I used to think your type was anybody who’d have sex with you. I guess this is one step up.”

  His barb hit exactly where he’d aimed it. A slow burn curled around the wound, feeding on months of frustration and rage and the helplessness of having to depend on somebody else, of having to depend on him when he was supposed to be depending on me. I swallowed down the tears stinging my throat, threatening to fall. Christ, it hurt knowing he held such a low opinion of me, when he and Gigi were everything to me.