The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2)

by Karen Ranney

  Mike didn't have the same finesse, going so far as to wave off the vegetable platter and concentrating, instead, on his steak. They should have brought him two or three. I eyed his bulk, wondering what kind of animal he became. A bear, probably. Something stolidly built.

  I buried any more speculation beneath my hunger.

  For the next few minutes we talked about wine, cooking, asparagus, anchovies, and artichokes. The vegetables grew at Arthur's Folly. The steak had mooed not long ago in the pastures around the castle.

  I was grateful the conversation was desultory so I could concentrate on my meal. The pleasure center of my brain, located right between my eyes, was being probed with each bite.

  The steak was buttery, nearly dissolving on my tongue. The asparagus was crisp, tangy with a vinegary sauce and the potatoes crunched with their slight char. The wine, a deep full bodied red, was a perfect accompaniment to the meal.

  Even my headache, no doubt a result of the confrontation with Maddock and all the stress of the last day, wasn’t enough to dim my pleasure. If I’d been alone, I’d probably be humming.

  How shallow am I that it only takes an excellent meal to make me happy?

  The siren made me jump. The sound was a whoop, whoop, whoop like one of those tornado warnings. We weren't exempt from violent weather in South Texas, but it was rare to experience tornadoes. I suspected the siren also warned of a breach in the castle’s perimeter.

  Dan looked at Mike, then put his napkin on the table and stood. Mike joined him, both men leaving the room vampire fast. I watched them go, my stomach clenching.

  Had Il Duce come back? Had he returned with reinforcements?

  Whatever was happening didn't disturb the maid who entered the room with a tray filled with cheesecake. A woman after my own heart. Nothing interfered with my love of cheesecake. For the time it took for me to eat a slice of cheesecake, the world was a perfect place.

  I surrendered my dinner plate with enthusiasm, just as the siren faded, the whoop whoop whoop draining to a feeble screech.

  Suddenly, Janet stood and came to my side. Before I realized what she was doing, she grabbed my arm. My first thought was that she had really disturbing green eyes. They fixed on me like she was a spider and I was an incapacitated fly. How could this woman possibly be Dan’s mother? My second thought, tumbling on the heels of the first, was that she was hurting me.

  The bitch was raking her nails down my arm.

  I pulled back.

  The girl with the cheesecake tray glanced over at the table, the expression on her face one of surprise. Evidently, Dan’s mother didn’t go crazy all that often.

  Why now?

  "You’re a danger to him," she said.

  Before I had a chance to explain that I was only here temporarily, and that I had absolutely no intention of disturbing Dan’s life, Janet sat back down.

  When the maid left, I almost went with her. Thankfully, I wasn’t left alone in the room with Janet very long. Seconds later, Dan returned, but without Mike.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “One of the sensors went off,” he said.

  “Where?”

  He put his napkin on his lap, directed his full attention to me.

  “At the southwest end of the property,” he said. “There’s another entrance there.”

  “Did someone get in?”

  “It doesn’t look like it.” He smiled. “It was probably an adventurous squirrel.”

  I doubted he would send Mike to look if he really thought it was a squirrel.

  “I understand your grandmother is a witch,” Dan’s mother said. Just like that, my worry shifted direction.

  My arm stung where she scratched me. I glanced down to find welts starting to form.

  What kind of woman does something like that?

  Just how much had Dan told her? I glanced from her to him and back again. When she didn't look away, her fork poised midair between mouth and plate, I realized she was probably going to sit that way until I answered her.

  "Yes," I said.

  "What kind of witch is she?"

  I blinked at her. "What kind of witch?"

  "There are earth witches and air witches, fire witches and water witches. There are all also, if you go by Aristotle, witches of the spirit."

  "Aristotle?"

  "The five elements," she said. “Earth, air, fire, water, and the unknown. The X factor. Spirit.”

  I put my fork down, my cheesecake half eaten, sat back against the throne like chair and put my hands on its arms.

  "I haven't any idea," I said. What good was lying at this point? "I didn't know until a few weeks ago that my grandmother was a witch."

  "She raised you, did she not? And you didn't know all this time?"

  "She didn't raise me."

  I glanced at Dan who was concentrating on his meal.

  The atmosphere in the room was suddenly oppressive.

  “Why do you want to know?"

  She looked at Dan, then back at me.

  "You’re a danger to my family," she said. “It's important to know everything I can about you."

  I was in the process of formulating a brilliant response when Dan stood and held out his hand to me.

  Bemused, I put mine in it, standing and staring at Janet. There was no love lost in her look. The woman definitely didn’t like me.

  It wasn’t my table manners. I was a very polite eater.

  "She’s not a danger, Mother," he said. "She's my guest and she's welcome here as long as necessary."

  "Are you absolutely certain that's a smart thing to do, Dan?”

  He didn't answer her and the question lingered in the air as he turned and walked with me from the dining room. We came to the main entrance with its sweeping staircase and he still hadn't said a word.

  I had a dozen questions. None of them seemed as important as the one bubbling into speech as we mounted the stairs.

  “Does she know I’m a vampire?”

  “Yes.”

  The next question was: how? But I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to know. Was I glowing or sparkly? Did I give off a certain je ne sais quoi aroma?

  "I'm sorry about my mother," he said. "She's excessively protective."

  "Does she live here?"

  He shook his head. "No, thank God. She has an apartment in downtown San Antonio.”

  No doubt overlooking the River Walk where she could watch the tourists and pass judgment over each and every one. A comment I didn't make. I was, after all, a guest in his home. One did not insult the host’s mother.

  “What did she mean, I’m a danger to you?”

  “Nothing. She was just surprised to see you here. I’ve never invited a woman to stay at the castle.”

  I pushed that thought aside for the moment.

  At my door he hesitated. “We have to talk about what happened tonight,” he said.

  I only nodded. I hoped that the discussion had something to do with his changing into a golden retriever. Maybe the presence of his mother was a deterrent. Maybe he just didn’t want to fess up.

  I stared after him for a moment before I closed the door.

  Dinner had been an annoyance. So, too, Janet Travis, but the biggest regret I had was that I hadn’t finished my cheesecake.

  Do I have my priorities in order, or what?

  Although it was early, I got ready for bed. Trying to kill a master vampire had exhausted me. I took Nonnie’s potion, got into bed and turned off the light, grateful for the red glow of the intercom on the bedside table. Somehow, knowing that Dan or Mike was within hailing distance reassured me.

  I woke up sick to my stomach. I made it to the bathroom with seconds to spare, throwing up my excellent dinner until nothing was left in my stomach.

  Maybe there had been something in the potion I should worry about. Or maybe this was just part of the whole process. Or it could be a reaction from whatever Il Duce had slipped me two nights ago. Please, God, don’t
let it be early, early morning sickness.

  I sat against the bathroom wall, not daring to move. I congratulated myself on my wisdom a few minutes later when the retching began again. When it was over, I wanted to press my cheek against the cool terrazzo floor. I was shaking violently, sweat pouring off of me. I couldn't remember ever being as sick. No, there was that time in college when someone had given me a beer and a shot. More than one, actually. I'd spent most of that night in the bathroom.

  It looked like I was going to do the same tonight. But it was worth it if the potion worked.

  The very last thing I wanted was to be pregnant with a vampire's child.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lassie, is that you, boy?

  The knock on the door woke me up. I had spent most of the night in the bathroom and when my stomach finally settled it was nearly dawn. I glanced at the clock. Ten. I hated waking up that late, because it meant everything was pushed back a few hours. Even though I wasn't working any longer, I still wanted a routine, some feeling of normalcy.

  The knock came again. I got out of bed, opened the door, peering around it. Dan stood there with a tray in his hands. The smell of coffee and waffles drifted tantalizingly toward me.

  "I'm not dressed," I said while looking longingly at the waffles.

  My stomach grumbled, but I didn’t know if it was from hunger or nausea at this point. All I knew was that everything hurt below my chest. I don’t get sick very often, but when I do I seem to make up for all the healthy times.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Give me a minute to get into the bathroom. I’m really not dressed.”

  I’d changed into a clean nightgown around three and it was one of those short things with matching panties.

  He nodded.

  I closed the door on him and scampered to the bathroom.

  I was presentable, if the word encompassed jeans and a top, in record time. I finger combed my hair. Makeup? Oh, who cared right now?

  He had set the tray on the circular glass table on the broad balcony. My borrowed room overlooked the front of the castle and beyond, to the lake. I averted my eyes, not willing to recall the events of the night before. I might consider myself a strong woman, but I'm intermittently strong. I have weak moments, too.

  He poured me a cup of coffee and placed the plate of waffles in front of me along with three different colored syrups.

  Once upon a time I had been cautious about how much sugar I ate. I wasn't low carb, per se, but I did avoid certain foods. I don't suppose it mattered anymore. Did vampires get diabetes?

  Another question – how many questions did I have? A hundred? Coming up on a thousand?

  Maybe I should be one of those people who simply accepted everything without curiosity. But I'd never been that way even when…my thoughts stuttered to a halt. Even when I was alive. Although my version of vampirism hadn’t altered my life all that much it seemed to be affecting the people around me.

  My grandmother had defaulted to a witch. My mother had become a killer.

  “I didn't have a chance to debrief you last night," he said. “How did it go with Maddock?”

  So we were going to pretend that he wasn't a golden retriever and had the power to shape shift. Or maybe in his canine guise, he didn't understand the world with human knowledge. Did I need to tell him he’d rescued me?

  “As well as I expected," I said.

  "Were you able to inject him with the virus?"

  I nodded. "I stuck him, but it was through his clothes. It felt like I made contact, but I'm not sure. I wasn't about to let Il Duce get naked.”

  He only nodded at that. “He's not going to leave you alone."

  That didn't require any comment on my part. I knew that. He knew that. The whole world knew that.

  According to Niccolo Maddock, I was one and a half times a vampire, a creature who, because of her nature, might be the savior to all vampires. I could walk in the sun. I had a menstrual cycle. Ergo, I was fertile. To test out his theory, Niccolo did his best to impregnate me. Which was why I was diligently taking my grandmother's potion morning and night. I was going to have to take the gawdawful stuff again, as soon as Dan left.

  "I can protect you here, Marcie," he said.

  I didn't argue with that, either. I felt safe at Arthur's Folly or maybe it was simply being around Dan. A tall muscular kind of guy, the former Ranger exuded confidence I clung to, especially now. I wasn't feeling all that brave and adventurous and most definitely not kick ass.

  Plus, he smelled good, like sandalwood, something sweet, and pine. Like walking through the great outdoors with a sugar cookie. Who wouldn’t love that?

  "I want to learn how to shoot a gun," I said. "And I don't think it would hurt to take some martial arts classes."

  His smile trembled on his lips but wasn't given permission to grow any farther.

  "I can show you some moves," he said.

  "You probably have a gym on the premises, don't you?"

  He nodded.

  "Do you have a shooting range?"

  “I do.”

  I took the first bite of my waffle. Topped with a mixture of berries, it was the most delicious thing I'd put in my mouth since the last meal I'd eaten here. Bliss made me close my eyes for a moment, savoring the powdered sugar and the syrup that tasted like a combination of honey and apple juice. Sweetness zinged through my veins, making me feel like I might survive my nausea after all.

  That thought brought me back around to Dan's earlier comment.

  "I've got to stop him somehow," I said.

  "How are you going to do that?"

  I shook my head, took another bite of waffle, partly to give me time to formulate an answer, but mostly because I loved the waffles.

  “If the situation were different," I said, finishing my bite. "I would appeal to the Council. But I'm afraid that if I told them what Maddock thought I could do, I’d end up chained in a basement somewhere and used as a broodmare."

  "Which is exactly what Maddock wants to do to you," he said.

  I knew that. Stripped of all its fear, all of the accessories of terror, the point was that I was nothing more than a uterus and a blood supply. I had no consciousness that mattered. I wasn’t Marcie. If I represented hope, it wasn’t for who I was as much as what Maddock thought I could do.

  I couldn't go anywhere near the Council.

  I picked up my fork and started eating again. Say what you will, they were damn good waffles.

  When I was just myself, Marcie Montgomery, insurance adjuster, single woman, I didn't have all the answers for my life. I didn't know if I was going to find someone to love, if I was going to buy a house or a new car. I didn't know if my income was going to increase or if I would get sick with something terminal. I didn’t know if it was going to rain tomorrow or if next winter would finally be cold.

  Yet as a human, I didn't have as many important questions as I did now. What was the meaning of my life? Who am I? What am I?

  I had a feeling I’d better get used to this uncertainty. It was probably part and parcel of who I was.

  "Maybe my grandmother’s coven would help me if they knew the whole story."

  “I think you’d be more likely to start an internecine war.”

  I decided to tell him the whole truth. "My father was a vampire," I said. "I don't know who he was, but Maddock does. I think he killed him."

  "Vampires can't have children.”

  "That's the common wisdom, isn't it? They’re not supposed to have anything to do with witches, either. My mother comes from a long line of witches. You take my mother, combine my father and voilà! You have me."

  He didn't speak for a moment.

  “Is that why you can do the things you can do?” he asked. “Eat and go out in the daylight?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea, but it makes sense. I’m a hybrid, so I can do odd things.”

  "Why doesn't Maddock just use you as a don
or?” he asked. “Why bother with a child?"

  It was a question I hadn't considered.

  “Antibodies? A rejection factor? The child would be half Maddock’s, so maybe that has something to do with it.”

  What the hell did I know about the science of genetics? I was a genetic mutation, something that shouldn’t be alive but was.

  “I can’t go to the police. They have no jurisdiction over vampires. I can’t go to the Council, because they would salivate to get me under their control. That only leaves the witches, unless you know of some other paranormal group that could help.”

  I looked pointedly at him. “Like shape shifters? People who seemed to be one thing, but were another?”

  I’ve met plenty of those people as humans, like Bill for example. My former significant other had seemed to be a loving, caring human being, but he’d ended up being a hundred and eighty pounds of golfing, basketball playing, football nut. He liked baloney and grilled cheese sandwiches, sex on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and someone else balancing his checkbook. If Bill was deeper than that, he’d never revealed it to me.

  Maybe that was my fault. I had been willing to accept whatever someone gave me. How odd that the new vampire, Pranic, Dirugu Marcie wasn’t.

  I sat back and regarded him steadily. Dan was a good looking guy, if I was into good looking guys lately. His jaw was well defined, his lips full. His green eyes were shielded by long, fluttery lashes, a feminine feature that did nothing to soften the square lines of his face. His eyes had the ability to pin me in place but softened regularly enough to give me the impression he was kind. He was also stubborn, secretive, and a golden retriever when he wished to be.

  I remembered the packet that Eagle Lady had given me. She was the instructor for my vampire orientation class, who had an unfortunate resemblance to an eagle. I’d gone to her for advice and she’d immediately broken her promise of confidentiality and told Niccolo Maddock what I’d said. That first class had been informative, however. She’d provided me with information about other paranormal creatures, members of the Brethren.

  I couldn’t remember all the information about shape shifters and I really didn’t want to get into a discussion about their history, modus operandi, religion, and general worldview. Right at the moment all I really wanted to know was if Dan changed into Mutt. Did I have him to thank for saving me from Maddock?