by Karen Ranney
“Did you ever do any modeling?” I asked Dan.
“What?” he asked, his frown slipping a little.
“Never mind.”
I couldn't go through the two men, so I merely went around, stepping over the flower bed with something that approximated dexterity. I didn’t damage one plant.
When I got to my car, he was right behind me. I glanced back. Mike had retreated to his truck, but Dan was in front of the door. There was no way to make Dan move if he didn’t want to move. The man was as obstinate as a stone.
I leaned against the car and folded my arms again.
"What do you want me to say? I didn't cause the explosion.”
"I thought you were dead," he said.
Here came guilt again, trotting up beside me and nudging away the irritation.
"I'm fine. Mike probably told you I'm fine."
"Jesus Christ, Marcie, a building exploded and you were in it. What do you think Mike said to me?"
Knowing the laconic Mike, I could just imagine.
"I'm fine," I said again, just now realizing he must have broken the land speed record driving in from the castle.
"How many tickets did you get?" I asked.
He frowned again. “What?”
I explained what I meant.
"I was in San Antonio," he said. "I had something to do.”
No doubt administering his kingdom. Up until Dan I'd never known anybody with an eight figure income.
I wasn't doing too shabby myself, but that's only because I’d received death benefits when I became a vampire. I had no other income, not like the Cluckey's Fried Chicken empire.
“What were you doing at the bookstore?"
“Does it matter?”
"No, Marcie," he said softly, "it doesn't matter. But it would be easier to keep you safe if I knew where you were going.”
“Let’s just agree that you might not be able to keep me safe. I appreciate your efforts to do so. I really do."
"Which means that you're not going to tell me what you’re doing, is that it?”
“No, I’m not.”
He only nodded. “How is Mutt?”
“He’s going to be fine,” I said with false cheer. “The vet is just checking him over. I think he inhaled too much plaster dust.”
He reached over and brushed his knuckles along my cheek.
“He doesn’t look like the only one.”
I wished he hadn’t touched me. I didn’t want to feel all warm and toasty around Dan at the moment.
“I’ve got to come back in a few hours and pick him up.”
“I could do that for you.”
“He’s my dog,” I said, suddenly feeling protective. “And his name isn’t Mutt. It’s Charlie.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded, wishing I didn't suddenly feel so weepy.
“I went to the bookstore to see Mr. Brown,” I said, annoyed at myself for spilling the beans. “He has a lot of very old books. I thought he might have some information about a Dirugu. Not everything’s on Google,” I added. “Although everyone thinks it is. There’s an awful lot of knowledge that isn’t made public.”
“Could he help?”
"No. He doesn't carry books on the paranormal.”
He reached behind me and opened the car door then stepped back.
“I’ll follow you home,” he said.
“I’m not going back to the castle right now,” I said. “I’m going to check on my apartment.” Since I was so close, it seemed foolish not to. I hadn’t been home since the day Dan talked me into going to stay with him.
His face changed, his eyes becoming flat.
"What?"
He stepped back as I got into the car.
"You going to follow me, aren't you?"
He only nodded.
I had the feeling that he wanted to say something else, but whatever it was, he bit it back.
Dan Travis, Man of Mystery. I was getting a little tired of it.
I bit back my irritation and started for my apartment.
I was worried about Charlie. The vet's comments about putting him on oxygen just amped up the guilt. Why had I taken him with me? Granted, there was the security factor. I felt safe with Charlie.
But I was a lousy dog owner.
It wasn't enough to love an animal. You had to put actions to words, didn’t you? That’s pretty much a guide to life. Bill, my former significant other, had always told me how much he loved me, but my memories of him were strangely platonic.
I remember him sitting in front of the TV, watching the Cowboys play with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. He’d nod to me during intermission or say something as long as it didn’t interfere with the game. Sometimes I thought he watched Dallas for the cheerleaders, but the sad fact was that I couldn't muster up enough jealousy to actually care.
In the end, it wasn’t Bill’s obsession with sports that ended our relationship. Or the fact that he never joined me in bed until I was asleep.
We had drawn apart. We never did anything together. I kept my money in my checking account and he did the same. We were roommates more than lovers. I knew, with the feeling that wasn't so much sadness as resignation, that we would never marry. If he asked me, I wouldn't say yes.
In the end, it was easier to leave, only to fall into Doug’s arms and become a vampire.
I should call Bill to tell him. Or maybe one of our mutual friends already had. Or one of the friends I’d thought I had before BF.
Who knows, Bill might be more interested in me as a vampire than he had been as a human. Too bad I hadn’t been turned while we were still together. I could have compelled him to shut off the damn TV and pay some attention to me.
But, then, I wouldn’t be here now, annoyed at Dan and all too aware of him following me.
Life, if I could call it that, had definitely gotten more interesting since I’d become a vampire. I just wish it weren’t so damned dangerous, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s for your own good, I promise, human version
I hadn’t been back to my apartment as soon as I should have. I was running out of time to convince the manager to let me stay. I’d been kicked out for having a dog without informing the management. Of course, I’d only had the dog for a few hours, so they were being a little unfair. Plus, I’d been more than willing to pay the pet deposit.
All comments I mustered for when I met with the manager.
Charlie would have to remain at the castle, of course, which I hated. Or maybe I could pay double the pet deposit. A Canadian company had taken over management of the complex last year. The first thing they’d done was pretty up the place by painting all the siding on the buildings and planting new bushes. The second thing they’d done was raise all the rents.
I’d bet my last rent check that money was a great motivator. I’d probably get a rent increase, plus a lecture. Of the two, I’d be more amenable to the rent increase. Being lectured by a paternalistic figure didn’t hold any charm whatsoever. As much as I didn’t like getting into someone else’s head, maybe I could just limit the lecture with a command.
I didn’t get the chance.
I drove around to my parking spot, expecting Mr. Gunderson to be blocking me once again. This time, it wasn't my elderly neighbor, but a moving truck in the middle of the covered parking area, which wasn't going to please my neighbors. Whoever was moving in was going to get lectured by the management as well receive the cold shoulder from the tenants.
We Texans might be polite at red lights, but we didn’t like people messing with our parking.
I pulled into one of the visitor spots and caught sight of my antique breakfront making its way to the inside of the truck.
For a shocked moment I thought I was being burgled on a large scale. Except of course, that Dan got out of his car and made his way to one of the men and spoke to him. I sat there watching as my mattress and box
springs were loaded into the truck, followed by the mahogany carved headboard I loved from the moment I found it in Fredericksburg.
Dan turned and looked at me.
I felt the anger bubble up inside, like a long dormant volcano coming to life. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down. I visualized a waterfall, the image changing to steam in seconds. Then I thought about a serene and pastoral scene, something out of an English landscape. It burned in seconds.
I’d had a hell of a day. First the explosion, then the realization that I’d harmed Charlie, and now this.
How dare he.
How dare Dan take over my life like this.
Who the hell did he think he was?
I could feel myself growing warmer. I looked down at my hands, clenched on the steering wheel. My knuckles were white, but the backs of my hands were red, almost as if I’d become sunburned.
Had I been out in the sun too long?
Dan started walking toward the car. Emotions swirled inside me and around me until I was my own little tornado.
The hatred I felt for Niccolo Maddock was at the heart of the whirlwind. So, too, the confusion I felt at being changed to a vampire without my knowledge. Add in the hurts and disenchantment as I learned more about my only two living relatives and the knowledge that I was a vampire’s child. Mix in the grief about Ophelia and feeling responsible for her death.
Every emotion I'd felt for the last two months, bottled, and restrained, escaped their containment field and moved from my toes, through my body, and into the tips of my fingers. I lifted my arms, still staring at Dan through the windshield, feeling betrayed in a way I had never felt before. Even Bill, in his most asshole moments hadn't done what Dan was doing now, treating me as if I were a child.
My arms stretched out in front of me. I spread my fingers and released everything, feeling it rush out of me like a gust of air.
Dan jerked back, rocking on his heels, and nearly falling.
Well, well, evidently I had some other powers. I spread my fingers and directed all my emotions toward him.
To my great delight, Dan fell on his ass.
My moment of triumph lasted until Mike jerked open the car door.
"What the hell are you doing?"
I turned and looked at Mike. I don't know what he saw. But it was disconcerting enough that he stumbled back a few steps.
"Jesus," he said.
I have to hand it to Mike. He had more courage than most men I knew. He reached in and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the car.
"What are you doing? Leave him alone. He's doing it for you.”
"He's moving my apartment. He's moving my furniture. He didn’t even let me know.”
Whatever I'd done to Dan was dissipating, leaving me feeling as sick as when I’d taken my grandmother's potion.
"He doesn't have the right, Mike," I said, trying to pull my wrist free. When he refused to release me, I let my anger build again then looked at him, pointing at him with my free hand.
To my shock, Mike gathered me up in his arms, pressing me so firmly against his chest that my chin felt pushed back into my brain.
"He's only doing it to help you," he said.
I shoved at him, but it was like trying to move a mountain. I closed my eyes and envisioned him being slammed into the wall of the building. He started to move backward, but unfortunately he took me with him. I stopped that thought immediately.
"Let me go," I said, my voice muffled against his shirt.
The day was a chilly one, but Mike the Mountain evidently didn't feel the cold. Instead, he was like a furnace, giving off heat that could've warmed a room.
He didn't release me.
"Let her go, Mike."
The band of Mike's arms dropped, but I didn't turn. Mike stepped away without a word, leaving me alone with Dan.
At the moment, I preferred Mike the Mountain.
"I don't want to talk to you," I said.
"How long have you been able to do that pushy thing?"
None of his business.
I took a quick look at my arms and hands. They were back to normal color. What did the bright red skin color mean?
Can I tell you how tired I was of having questions and no answers? Even the answers I got I didn't like.
I flicked my hand at Dan, as if to dismiss him like a fly. I thought about him falling on his ass again, but he just stood there with legs braced, his face mimicking Mount Rushmore.
How dare he be mad? I was the one who was being uprooted and moved without my consent.
"I didn't tell you to move my stuff."
"The manager was going to put all your stuff in the street."
"He wouldn't have done that," I said, my voice a little less firm.
“He called me and told me he was going to do exactly that. What did you want me to do, just tell them to go ahead?"
"You could've told me."
“I tried, Marcie. You weren’t answering your phone.”
I looked at him. I’d turned off my phone in deference to Mr. Brown’s dislike of technology and hadn’t turned it back on.
"You could've told Mike. He could've told me."
There were a few more could haves in that statement than I liked.
He hadn't changed his stance. Dan, irritated, was a bit more intimidating than I liked.
I wanted to ball my hands up into fists and beat on his chest. Or slap him silly. Or push on him until he fell on his ass again. Then, while he was down on the ground, I would kick him.
"We only had a matter of hours, Marcie. I didn’t want people to rummage through your things or steal them, for that matter.”
I turned and looked at the truck. It was only about half the size of a regular moving van yet all of my possessions were fitting easily inside. Now I had another problem on my hands. What did I do with all of my belongings?
I couldn't make the truck circle the block while I arranged to rent another apartment somewhere. A place that rented to vampires but was vampire proof. A place where the witches couldn’t get to me. An apartment my mother couldn’t breech.
I was tired, that was the only reason I was so close to tears. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that I could see my entire “normal" life dissolving right in front of my eyes.
Maybe I should just build myself a pyramid somewhere and go and sit on the top of it, declaring myself a Dirugu.
Once I allowed my emotions free rein, they were overpowering me. I was angry at my grandmother who had let me live and who was probably questioning that decision now. I was angry at Doug, who’d turned me into a vampire. I was angry at Maddock, who tried to take advantage of the situation. I was angry at my own body that was somehow doing things it shouldn’t be doing. I was even angry at Dan for being kind and generous, only a small sign that I was losing my mind.
In the car, I had no idea that my anger could translate to a force. My body had known. Is that what being a Dirugu was? What else could I do? Was I suddenly going to turn invisible? Grow two heads?
I had a sick feeling in my stomach, like the time when I overdosed on cinnamon rolls. You know how you can eat something and after a while you are shocked at how many you’ve consumed? Some people are that way with potato chips or tacos. Me, it’s cinnamon rolls. Maybe it’s a combination of the fat and sugar that made me so sick once I stopped eating them.
I was feeling that way right now. Plus, I was burning up. Was it a side effect of the pushy thing?
I really did need to study myself and figure out what else I could do.
“You can stay at the castle for as long as you want, Marcie.”
“You didn’t take me to raise, Dan. Or protect.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
“What’s the fair market value of a suite in a castle?” I asked.
He named an obscenely low amount. I doubled it.
“I’ll pay that as rent,” I said.
“You don’t have to do that.”
&nbs
p; I nodded. Paying him rent would at least allow me to cling to the myth that I was on my own and not dependent on a near stranger for safety.
"I can't stay with you forever," I said.
"Not forever. But for right now."
I nodded. "For now."
They were finishing up putting the last of my belongings in the truck. That stupid broom I’ve been meaning to replace for months was last, along with the trash can that had an elephant face. Silly little things that reflected me and somehow made me want to cry.
I should go into the apartment and make sure it was pristine. When I said as much to Dan, he shook his head.
“I’ve arranged for a maid service to come in,” he said.
I didn’t even bother arguing. Instead, I nodded and walked away from Dan, my shoulders straight, my tears held at bay.
Thanks to him, I had a place to stay and a refuge from the wicked, wicked world.
Why, then, did I resent the hell out of the situation?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Do I need uninsured vampire insurance?
I left Dan back at my apartment, certain that either he or Mike, or both of them, would be following me soon. Wouldn’t it be easier just to implant a GPS device in me? Or make me wear a very long leash?
A thought that prompted another: how much time had passed? Should I call the vet and check on Charlie?
Lately, I’d been occupied with thoughts of myself more than anyone else. I’d been the poster girl for selfishness. Of course, some of that was to be expected, but the truth was that I was a little tired of being so damn self-absorbed. Yes, I needed to find out what I was, but I needed to look around me from time to time, too. I wasn’t living on an island. I was interacting with other people. I was caring for an animal I’d kinda/sorta adopted.
God, please let Charlie be all right. And please help me to be a better person. Vampire. Creature.
I didn’t know if other vampires had faith, but I still believed in God. Granted, I was beginning to think God had a great sense of humor. Or maybe He was a ten year old kid in some alternate universe and He liked making up these creatures and putting them on a ball we called earth. Maybe we were just Legos in another dimension.
