Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One)

by Sloan Archer

  “Michael is a delightful man,” he smiled. “I have known him for years.” He hesitated. “You met Marlena, hmm?” The contempt he felt for her was evident.

  “Yes.” Did nobody like the woman?

  “I have known her for years, too.” He sounded less than thrilled about their acquaintanceship, and he did not elaborate further.

  “Are you looking forward to tonight?” I asked, keeping the conversation rolling.

  “You want me to be honest?” he asked.

  “The truth,” I mimicked his earlier words. “Always the truth.”

  “I think we are going to get along just fine, Mercy,” he said. “No. I am not looking forward to this function, not one bit.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “These things are always the same: a bunch of employees trying to impress me, a bunch of women trying to seduce me, and a bunch of investors trying to screw me.” He let out deflated sigh. “I find it all so tedious.”

  “Women trying to seduce you, hmm?” I wasn’t sure if I’d merely had the thought or had actually said it out loud.

  No matter; the car slowed and then stopped in front of a colonial-style estate. Robert looked out the window.

  “Ah,” he said. “We have arrived.”

  NINE

  We walked into the banquet hall under a carved wooden archway illuminated by several coils of glass fairy lights.

  There was a string quartet playing softly in the corner, and enormous bouquets of crisp, bright flowers were situated sporadically around the room. I closed my eyes and inhaled the aromatic mixture of lilacs, orchids, and lilies. The smell was intoxicating.

  Robert looked over at me darkly. “I am afraid you are going to meet many dull people tonight,” he said.

  Before I had a chance to remark, he was swept away by three men who seized him by his elbows. They, too, were wearing tuxedos, and were jawing intensely about a politician that Robert ‘needed’ to meet. He stopped for a moment and shot me an apologetic smile over his shoulder. The men checked their watches impatiently.

  I waved at him and smiled back. He had to mingle. I understood that perfectly. “Go ahead,” I mouthed.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed back.

  I strolled towards the bar in order to kill some time until Robert returned. I was nervous, as I could feel dozens of curious eyes taking me in. Who is she? Did she arrive with Robert? I glanced around the room covertly, trying to discern the humans from the vampires.

  I’d only gone a few feet when a man in his fifties made his approach. He had a glass of champagne in one hand, and his other was held out for me to shake. I took his hand into mine and smiled politely. His grip was unintentionally crushing, like having my hand mashed in a vice grip.

  Oh my God; he was one of them.

  Had it not been for his herculean strength, I would have believed him human.

  “Here, I brought this over for you,” he said, offering me the glass of champagne. “I’m Nathaniel.”

  I took the glass appreciatively and released his hand. “Nice to meet you, Nathaniel. I’m Mercy.”

  “Are you having a nice evening?” he asked.

  “I’ve only just arrived. It’s absolutely breathtaking in here, though,” I said, awestruck.

  He lifted a shoulder and tilted his tilted his head indifferently. He’d seen better.

  “So, rumor has that you’re a Dewhurst grad,” he said pleasantly.

  “How did you know?” I asked, shocked.

  “I can sense these things,” he said with the utmost seriousness. He pointed to his forehead. Wow, I’d just met my first mind reader.

  “Oh. Right.” Judging by his friendly demeanor, and the fact that my head was still intact with the rest of my body, he’d undoubtedly also established that his vampire secret was in safe hands.

  “I’m Dewhurst alum myself,” he said proudly.

  “Really?” I beamed. At least there was one person in the place that I had a little something in common with.

  “Yes. Class of ninety-five.”

  “Ninety-five? You’re a fairly recent grad, then.”

  “No,” he said playfully. “Eighteen ninety-five.”

  “Right,” I grinned. “Sorry. I’m still getting used to all this,” I held up my finger and rotated it around a couple of circles.

  He pointed to his forehead again. “I know,” he said good-humoredly. “Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Mercy. Vampires really do adore humans.” His eyes flickered to Robert. “Most of us do, anyway.”

  “Robert’s my date, actually. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

  As if he knew we were speaking of him, Robert’s head jerked up. He abruptly broke away from the group of men that he was schmoozing, and made an attempt to cross the room to join us.

  He had only walked a few steps when a striking blonde woman with curves that wouldn’t quit stepped directly into his path. She coiled her arm through his and whispered into his ear, pushing her breasts up towards his face so he’d have an unspoiled view of her cleavage. He said something to her disapprovingly. She threw her hand over her chest and guffawed, seemingly under the impression that he was joking around.

  To my great pleasure, he shook his head exasperatedly and sidestepped her, making his way over to where I was waiting. The woman muttered something under her breath and skulked off in the direction of the restroom.

  Robert extended his hand as he approached. “Nathaniel,” he said. He was all business now.

  “Robert.” Nathaniel reluctantly accepted his hand, as if he was touching a rotting fish.

  A chic woman in the corner of the room locked eyes with Nathaniel. She beckoned him over with an aggravated wave. She was chatting with a few couples, nodding her head politely, looking as if she desperately needed some backup. Nathaniel waved back.

  “I’m afraid my wife will drain my blood if I don’t join her,” he said regrettably. He turned to me, taking my hand into his. “Mercy, it was ever so lovely to meet you,” he said, kissing the top of my hand.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I said shyly. Nobody had ever kissed my hand like that before. Not seriously, anyway.

  He gave Robert a curt glimpse. “Robert,” he muttered, leaving us.

  “Friend of yours?” I smirked.

  “Oh, yes, we are great pals,” he retorted. I looked up at his face, assuming he was being snide, but was surprised to find him grinning down at me. Maybe he wasn’t so uptight after all.

  “Are you at least having a nice time?” I asked cheerfully.

  He looked at me meaningfully. “I was not before, but I am now.”

  He held out his solid arm for me to accept. “What do you say we get out of here?” he suggested.

  “Okay… Sure.” I looked up at the large clock hanging above the center of the room. “But, you know, we’ve only been here for twenty minutes.”

  He flashed me another gorgeous grin, sending my pulse into overdrive. I wondered if hypnosis was another vampire talent. My eyes flickered to his dimples. No, I decided, his splendor was the real deal. Hot with a capitol H, as Erika had said.

  He winked at me. “I hardly think security is going to stop us at the door. I do own the corporation,” he said, leading us to the exit.

  “You have a point,” I laughed, hooking my elbow through his. I looked at the clock again, this time pointedly. “You do have me for a couple more hours, though,” I said slowly. I wasn’t exactly sure of the protocol I needed to follow for dates that ended prematurely. The conversation was becoming awkward.

  “Of course,” he said stiffly. “Well, I do not mind if you wish to part company early.”

  “No!” I blurted, and he gave me a stunned look. “I wasn’t implying that I wanted to go home. All I meant to say is that I’m having a nice time.” I blushed.

  “You are?” He seemed surprised.

  “Absolutely. I merely wanted to point out that you paid for five hours. We might as well make use of them.” I wanted to m
ake good use of them, anyway, even if he didn’t.

  “What do you have in mind?” He asked this carefully, not suggestively like a human male would have done, but carefully.

  We reached the limo just then, where Carl was waiting patiently with the door held open for us. We slid in, and I noticed with satisfaction that Robert’s hand hovered considerately above my lower back.

  “Well, I guess since eating is out, we could go somewhere and talk,” I suggested.

  “You want to talk? To me?” He was dumbfounded. “Why?”

  Well, Robert, because you’re the first man in a very long time that has awakened the butterflies in my stomach. Because your exquisiteness is making it extremely difficult for me to keep my thoughts straight and my underwear dry, and I will undeniably use images of your lovely face and rock-hard body as fodder for masturbation as I toss in bed later tonight obsessing over you. Because I’ve never met anyone so charmingly enigmatic, and something about you is pulling me in. Because I somehow know that you’re a funny, decent man under that cool exterior, even though I know that it’s ridiculous to be certain of such a thing after only knowing you for a few hours. Because I want to be next to you, and I want for you to want me, despite the fact that you’re capable of killing me with a single bite.

  “I don’t know,” I said sensibly. “Because… you seem interesting.”

  “Oh. Okay, where would you like to go?”

  “Hmm, let me have a think. It’s after ten, so I’m guessing that Starbucks is out- not that you’d want a coffee anyway,” I said bashfully. “You have any ideas?”

  “I am at a loss,” he admitted. “Like I mentioned before, I have not been alone in the company of a human female in quite some time, especially one so beautiful.” He cleared his throat. “Of course, I have been out with other Dignitary chaperones, but I have most certainly never left early with any of them to have a talk.”

  Did he just call me beautiful?

  “If you just want to call it a night, I’ll understand,” I said, giving him a way out. It would have crushed my spirit if it was the case, but I didn’t want the man to feel obligated to spend the evening with me. While I may have been lonely, I wasn’t going to stoop as low as to guilt a vampire into hanging out with me.

  “No, of course not,” he said hastily. “I find your company rather pleasurable. I just do not want to suggest a venue you may not enjoy. What do humans your age do for fun? Nightclubs?”

  I crinkled my nose. “Some do, but I don’t really enjoy them. Does that make me boring?” I asked self-consciously.

  He put his hand over his chest in a gesture of relief. “I am pleased to hear you say that. I find nightclubs to be horrible affairs. And, no, Mercy, I do not consider you boring. I doubt any man ever would.”

  He dropped his hand from his chest and repositioned it over mine. I nearly let out a whimper when he abruptly jerked it away seconds later, obviously concerned that he’d overstepped some boundary. The butterflies left my stomach, fluttered up to my breast, and flapped their wings rapidly over my heart.

  “I can think of one place,” I began. My voice cracked, and so I swallowed hard and tried again. “The place is called Whistle Stop. It’s just a little hole-in-the-wall diner a few blocks away, but it’s quiet, comfortable, and open all night. The atmosphere kind of reminds me of my hometown in Florida. The waitresses are a bit rude, though the place does have its charm. The restaurant is part of an old steam train. The booths are positioned where the passenger seats used to be. ”

  He was astonished. “A diner?”

  “Of course, if you’re sickened by the smell of food, or if you hate the idea, or if it’s not fancy enough…” He was right- a diner? What the hell was I thinking? This was a man accustomed to the very best in life, not yokel greasy spoon steak and eggs.

  “A diner sounds perfect, Mercy. I probably have not been to one in over fifty years, and never one located in a train that was not moving. This will be a treat for me.”

  He waited quietly while I gave Carl directions.

  “I was just surprised by your choice, that is all,” he stated.

  “Why?” I asked, suddenly feeling very improper.

  “Well, as I am certain you are probably aware, I have a lot of money- more money than most humans earn a thousand lifetimes over.” He wasn’t bragging, only citing a fact. “In the past, whenever I have asked a woman to recommend a location for us to spend the evening, the first places she would think of were always five-star restaurants, exclusive bars, and luxury department stores. Places where she could spend my money. You, however, have just suggested a hole-in-the-wall diner,” he smiled. “I find that… fascinating.”

  “Oh.”

  He placed his hand back over mine hesitantly, looking me square in the face with those hypnotic eyes of his. “And I find you fascinating, Mercy.”

  TEN

  Every head in Whistle Stop turned when Robert and I walked through the door.

  For a moment, I found the interest perplexing, blaming the majority of the attention we received on Robert’s jaw-dropping handsomeness. It wasn’t until a little girl on her way out the door pointed to me coyly and asked her mother if I was a princess that I remembered our formal attire.

  “I guess we’re a tad overdressed,” I smirked at Robert. For his amusement, I snapped my finger and gasped, “Oh, shoot! Whistle Stop’s tuxedo and ball gown dress code is on Saturday, not Friday! Gosh, now I just feel plain silly.”

  He flashed his eyes towards the ceiling, mocking me playfully.

  The little girl outside continued to watch me in awe through the wide windows as her parents scooped her up and buckled her down inside a large SUV with Oregon plates. There was a mishmash of suitcases, bikes, and boxes strapped to the roof of the vehicle, which explained why a child her age was up at such a later hour. They were traveling.

  When her dad started the car and backed out of their parking space, I smiled at the girl and curtsied, just like a princess. Her chubby little hands clapped happily and her eyes scrunched up as she let out a squeal. She waved at me sweetly through the back window as they drove off. I waved back with small flicks of the wrist, the same way I’d seen Queen Elizabeth do it on television.

  Robert, observing the exchange, chuckled under his breath.

  I looked at him curiously. “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head amusedly. “You are simply enchanting.”

  We waited for a few minutes without being greeted, immediately feeling foolish as we noticed the PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF sign in the corner. We walked through the main dining area and settled down in a secluded booth near the rear of the restaurant, Robert seemingly taking no notice of the hushed comments and probing glances directed our way.

  I, however, had to bite my tongue in order to stop myself from pointing at Robert and yelling, “Eat it up, looky-loos! I’m here with this spectacular man, and he just called me enchanting. That’s right, enchanting!”

  “This place is rather quaint. I like it,” he stated. He grabbed two menus from the metal holder on the side of the table and handed one of them to me. He scanned the menu, running a finger over the selections. “Hmm, let me see. What looks good? You think I should ask if I qualify for the senior citizen discount?”

  “You aren’t actually going to eat something, are you?” I asked skeptically.

  “Of course not, but I have appearances to keep up.” He said this like it was obvious, which I guess it was. “My, my- listen to this. The Scary Coronary: sausage, bacon, onion, and cheese omelet, sandwiched between two king-sized hash browns, all smothered in hollandaise sauce, served with two buttermilk pancakes, and a side of ham. Guaranteed to stop your heart.” He closed the menu and looked at me sternly. “I simply do not understand this grotesque obsession American’s have with killing themselves with food. People treat eating like it is a competitive sport in this country,” he scowled.

  He was so bothered, I had to laugh. “Robert, eati
ng is a competitive sport in this country.”

  “Surely you cannot be serious,” he said incredulously.

  “Oh, I’m serious.”

  “What do people eat for these competitions?” he asked with curious eyes.

  “I’ve never been in one myself, but they eat all kinds of things. Usually it’s hotdogs or pie.”

  “That is very odd.”

  “Ha! This, coming for a vampire,” I teased quietly, conscious of eavesdroppers.

  “Well, at least we do not binge-drink on humans for sport.” He looked sheepish. “Okay,” he rephrased, “at least not anymore.”

  Keeping my voice low, I asked, “Come to think of it, how do you guys drink? Michael said that you go to blood banks or something?”

  “That is correct. They are all over the city, run by vampires, naturally.”

  “Okay,” I said, waiting for him to elaborate. “And?”

  “Well, think of blood like you do human food. Some foods, like rice and beans, are fairly inexpensive; nothing fancy, but you would still be able to sustain a living off them, correct? Then there are other foods, like caviar and decadent cheeses, which you eat because you enjoy. Of course, the things humans take a delight in consuming- the gourmet foods so to speak- cost more. It works the same way with human blood.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s the vampire version of gourmet?”

  “The purer, the better. I am not referring to virgins and children, which is Puritanical nonsense, but rather the toxins people have in their body. Sick humans taste the worst because of all the medicines they have in their system. A vampire might as well drink rat blood if they are going to consume plasma from an individual who is undergoing chemotherapy. Women who are on birth control also taste terrible, and so do people who eat processed foods or drink hard alcohol heavily. The best tasting humans are usually vegetarians and athletes, as they tend to be more cautious about the foods and chemicals that go into their body.”

  “That is so fascinating. I wonder what I’d taste like,” I said without thinking. I trusted that he was smart enough to realize that I had in no way offered him my blood. “So, do you go into the banks and get transfusions? Or do you get it by the liter, like bottled water? And what’s the going rate for something like that?”