by Jaye Wells
Eeeew.
“Now, will you please come downstairs with me and give Logan a chance to explain?”
Syd tapped her foot as she considered Kira’s suggestion. Either she could stay in this room indefinitely, staring at the hole she put in Logan’s wall, or she could go downstairs and get this over with. Deep down she knew none of them would ever hurt her.
“Okay, I’ll go listen. But I want your word you will not influence my mind in any way.”
Kira smiled. “I promise I won’t influence you.”
Syd held up a finger to indicate the woman should wait a moment. Then she ran to the closet to grab something she had seen earlier. When she emerged, Kira looked as if she struggled not to laugh.
“Planning on a spot of tennis?”
Syd clutched the two tennis rackets together so the handles formed a cross.
“No, it’s a cross,” Syd explained. “Wait. Why aren’t you backing up?”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m afraid you’ve been watching too many movies. Crosses have no effect on us.”
Her shoulders drooped. Even though she trusted them not to hurt her, she really was powerless against them. Kira’s gaze turned sympathetic.
“No, you’re not, dear. I’m sure the rackets would cause a nasty bump if you hit one of us on the head. Now, come along.”
She knew Kira was using mental suggestion on her again, but she welcomed the sense of calm that descended. Kira seemed genuinely concerned with making Syd feel comfortable. Dropping one racket but still clutching the other, she followed Kira out the door.
“And don’t worry dear, I won’t mention the butt through the wall incident to Logan,” Kira said with a smile in her voice.
Stopping in her tracks, Syd was about to remind Kira about her promise not to read her mind. But before she could speak, Kira explained.
“No, dear, I promised not to influence you,” the woman calmly explained. “I never said I wouldn’t read it.”
Grimacing, she mentally kicked herself for giving the woman such a loophole. Her only option right now, short of starting an argument she had no patience for, was to get better at controlling her thoughts. She stuck her tongue out at Kira’s back as a test.
“Darling, that gesture is so unbecoming of a young lady.” Kira sounded on the verge of laughter, but Syd couldn’t see her face as they descended the stairs.
Crap.
“And such language.”
Abruptly clearing her mind, she focused instead on the remaining few steps. At the bottom, they walked toward the living room where they’d all met the night before.
Immediately her gaze collided with Logan’s. Her step faltered. Now that she was down here, she wasn’t sure she could face him.
“Sydney, dear,” Kira’s calming voice cut through her turbulent thoughts. Syd took a deep breath and continued into the room.
She took the seat farthest away from him. She despised feeling vulnerable, so she decided to go on the offensive.
Clutching her tennis racket, she looked Logan straight in the eye. “So, anything else you’ve been keeping from me? Like—oh, I don’t know—you’re married to the Blair Witch?”
Chapter Eleven
“I suppose I deserved that,” Logan said, his mind alternating between relief she didn’t seem scared and annoyance at her sarcasm. “But tell me, would a monster have saved you from the attack last night?”
Syd maintained her stubborn posture, but conceded a small shrug.
“I appreciate that, but it doesn’t excuse the fact I walked in to find you consuming blood. That’s just not normal, Logan!”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You found all this out in the worst way possible. If I ever thought this would happen, I would have told you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Boy, I sure could go for a tall glass of blood right about now. Could you pass the salt?’ That would have gone over really well,” he said, not able to keep the sarcasm from his tone. Then he looked her straight in the eye, needing to reassure her he hadn’t deceived her on purpose.
“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever need to tell you. I didn’t plan on . . . things progressing like they did.”
Her pink cheeks reflected his own discomfort about discussing the topic in front of his mother and brother.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Callum said. “But perhaps this is a discussion you two should have after we leave.”
Logan sent a grateful look to Callum. Perhaps once he explained the reality of being a vampire to Syd, she would be more receptive to discussing their future. Or lack thereof. Shaking off the melancholy that thought produced, he mentally switched gears. Syd still looked upset, but also seemed relieved at the idea of changing the subject.
“Okay,” he began and then cleared his throat. “I am sure you have some questions.”
She looked around at all of them for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. He would give anything to know what she was thinking right now so he could know exactly what to say.
“How old are you?”
Logan grimaced; he had hoped to cover other areas before easing her into this subject. After all, what woman wanted to find out she slept with a man who was more than four hundred years her senior?
“I am 437.”
Syd’s mouth dropped open. He sat up straighter, feeling vulnerable all the sudden.
She looked like she wanted to ask something else, so he raised his eyebrows, dying to know what she thought.
“Wait! You’re the Hot Scot!” Syd exclaimed. “Like really, really him!”
“Yes,” he said. “My father, Cornelius, painted it as a gift to my mother.” He glanced at Kira and saw the pain in her eyes at the mention of his father. He regretted making her sad, but knew he had to be honest with Sydney.
Her eyebrows drew together. “But you said his name was Royce.”
“Royce is my first name, but I go by my middle name.”
Her mouth formed into a silent “oh” as she struggled to process the implication of his admission. He worried she might get mad again at this latest deception, but her next words eased his mind.
“Well, I guess this makes proving the authenticity of the painting easier,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t believe it was you the whole time.”
He shrugged. “Well I couldn’t very well walk in there and tell you it was me, could I?”
“No, I can see why you made up the ancestor story. How was it stolen?”
“We were visiting family in France at the time and left a very small staff in place to watch the keep. Upon our return, we discovered the staff dead and many of our valuables gone. A group of foolhardy villagers believed they could scare us into leaving their region,” Kira explained. “You see, we were . . . different then. We didn’t have bagged blood for sustenance. I am afraid the people didn’t like having us as neighbors.”
Logan spoke then. “As for what happened to the painting, I believe it was probably sold for profit.”
Syd shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Remember, the anonymous donor did not provide any provenance with the painting. It is unlikely someone back then would have wanted a portrait of an anonymous man. It was only in more recent times this type of work became popular to collect. Therefore, surely a record of the sale would exist. Yet I found nothing about it.
“Even though the donor wanted to be anonymous,” she continued, “they could have given us sales records if they had bought the painting if for no other reason than to prove its authenticity. No, my guess is it passed down through a family. That would explain the lack of paper trail.”
Kira nodded. “That would also explain why we could never find it despite decades of hunting for it.”
“Well, that’s one mystery solved,” Callum said.
Syd looked at Logan in awe. “I still can’t believe you were alive in the seventeenth century. You’re like a walking history book.”
“Nah, if you think he’s old, you’re going to freak when you find out how old mother is,” said Callum with a chuckle.
“Thanks, son,” Kira said with a rueful smile. Syd raised her eyebrows in question.
“Seven hundred-ish,” Kira admitted.
“Seven—? You’re kidding! Well I guess the whole vampire thing explains why you look so young. I thought you had just spent a fortune on plastic surgery,” Syd said.
Kira chuckled. “When I was turned I was still quite young by today’s standards. But in those days I was already considered past my prime at the age of eighteen.”
“Wait, you said you were turned. So you were all made into vampires?”
“No. The boys’ father, Cornelius, turned me. Callum and Logan were born vampires.”
“Vampires can give birth?”
“Yes, dear. I think you’ll find we’re much more like mortals than you think. The only difference is vampire children take longer to reach their prime, and then they stop aging.”
“This is so weird,” she said, sounding more confused than judgmental. “I thought people only became vampires when they were bitten by another one.”
“That’s a fallacy perpetuated by Hollywood. In fact, a turning involves an exchange of blood, not just a bite,” said Logan.
“Have you ever turned anyone?” she asked.
“No, turning a mortal is allowed only in certain cases.”
“Allowed by whom?”
“The Brethren Council, a governing body of elder vampires. We have laws, just like mortals, that govern our behavior. But I think before we delve into the intricacies of our culture, we should start with the basics.”
Logan tried to focus on her eyes, but when she bit her lip in thought, his attention strayed to her luscious mouth. The mouth he had kissed mere hours before. He gave himself a mental shake. Now was not the time for those thoughts.
“How do you get your blood?” she asked, not really sure she was ready for the answer.
“We actually have not fed from human sources for decades," Logan replied. "Bagged blood made feeding off mortals unnecessary."
“And Logan is in the process of developing a synthetic blood product to completely break our dependency on human blood,” Callum added.
“Really? Is that the big project you have been working on?” she asked.
“Yes, I call it Lifeblood. Synthetic blood has existed for years for mortal uses, but my formula is specifically for vampire nutritional needs. We are working on including all the supplements we already take into the Lifeblood.”
“Supplements? That was the bottle I saw earlier?”
“The stories about vampires not being able to go in the sun are true. However, the real reason is we have an extreme allergy to it, not because we combust when exposed to sunlight. In addition, the paleness and gaunt look people associate with us is the result of acute anemia, so we also need a large amount of iron.”
“That makes sense,” she said, her brows furrowed. “But what about the whole damned-for-eternity part?”
Logan sighed. He glanced at his mother. She smiled encouragingly from her spot next to him on the couch.
“We are immortal, but not because of a curse. Our bodies are just able to heal quickly, and we have immunity to the illnesses that plague mortals.”
Syd raised her eyebrows in question. “But where did you come from?”
“Honestly, no one really knows. Some vampires like to believe we are like gods; they even have a bible of sorts filled with vague prophecies and myths. But they are in the minority. My theory is we are the result of a genetic mutation that occurred thousands of years ago. I believe a virus caused extreme changes to our DNA, which resulted in a stronger race.”
“Okay, but if that’s true, then why the anemia and the sun allergy?”
He smiled at her quick mind. “An excellent question. I believe the weaknesses are Mother Nature’s way of keeping checks and balances.”
“I suppose that makes sense. How do you explain the mind control and psychic skills?”
“Have you heard it said that mortals use only a small portion of their brain?”
“Yes, I read somewhere we only use like ten percent of our minds.”
“I believe the mutation allowed vampires to tap into the other ninety percent, allowing us to read minds and influence our surroundings.”
“Speaking of which,” she said in a suspicious tone. “Did you influence me?”
When he didn’t respond, Syd narrowed her eyes and leaned forward menacingly, obviously assuming his silence indicated guilt.
“Of all the rotten . . . You creep!”
“Sydney, dear, sit down. Logan can not influence your mind.”
Logan sent a glare to his mother.
“I’m sorry, darling, but we can’t leave her under the impression you have been controlling her against her will.”
He knew she had a point, but he really didn’t want Sydney to learn the whole truth.
“But why not? How could you influence me, but not Logan?” Syd addressed his mother. Logan was about to launch into an explanation when his brother cut in.
“Sydney, sometimes there are exceptions—mortals we cannot touch mentally. Mother is older and stronger than most vampires. There are very few, if any, she cannot read.”
“So you can’t read my mind either?” she asked Callum. He glanced at Logan, his apology clear in his eyes.
“Uh, yeah, I can read it,” he grudgingly admitted.
“But aren’t you younger than Logan?” she asked.
“Yes, I am 314. But in this instance, age has nothing to do with why I can read you and he can’t.”
Logan’s blood pressure rose. He didn’t know if he should forcibly shut up his brother or launch into an explanation to Sydney.
“Okay, what aren’t you guys telling me?” She looked at Logan, her eyes narrowed into slits.
He knew she wouldn’t stand for excuses now, not after everything else. But he honestly didn’t know how to explain the soul mate issue to her when he himself didn’t know if it was true. The scientist in him demanded that a more rational explanation must exist. And the man in him didn’t want to face the idea that this woman, whom he had come to care for, might laugh in his face if he told her how he felt, especially given her skittishness about the vampire issue.
“Sydney, dear, we believe the real reason—”
“Mother,” Logan interrupted in warning tone.
“What? She deserves to know,” Kira said to him. Then she turned to Syd. “As I was saying, we believe you and Logan share a special . . . connection that prevents him from being able to influence you.”
Logan couldn’t look at Sydney. While his mother hadn’t actually come out and said “soul mates”, the implication had to be clear to Sydney.
“A connection? You mean like chemistry or something?”
“Yes, sometimes when there is chemistry between a vampire and a mortal it interferes with the vampire’s ability to influence the mortal’s mind.”
Logan dared a glance at Sydney. Luckily, she didn’t look appalled. Instead, she looked at him quickly before staring down at her shoes. But despite her attempts to hide it, he saw the blush spread on her cheeks. The fact she didn’t deny the chemistry between them gave him some hope everything might work out. But he wasn’t fool enough to hope they were out of the woods.
“Syd, the truth is we don’t know for sure why I can’t read your mind. But I promise you I have not influenced any of your actions since we met,” he said.
“No, dear, he couldn’t read your mind either,” Kira said.
Syd’s head snapped up. “Stop that! Anyone else reads my mind and I am out of here.”
“Mother,” Logan said, a warning clear in his tone.
Callum chuckled. “Don’t worry, Syd. We won’t tell him anything. It is far more fun to see him squirm.”
Syd’s frown wobbled, and then a small smile peeked from the corner of he
r full mouth. Logan wanted to be mad at his meddling relatives, but seeing Syd relax made him feel decades younger.
“It’s so bizarre. You guys seem like such a normal family. Well, except for the blood drinking, immortality, and psychic abilities.”
Kira chuckled. “Thank you, dear.”
Logan allowed himself a smile.
“Wait,” Syd said as if something had just occurred to her. “The other night you said your father died. If you are all immortal, then where is he?”
Logan’s smile disappeared. He glanced at his mother, who suddenly looked ill. Callum stood and came over to sit on the arm of the couch next to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Syd glanced at the uneasy faces around her and said, “Oh dear, I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Kira smiled wanly at Syd. “That’s all right, dear. I know you didn’t mean any harm. And it’s understandable you would be confused.”
“We are not impervious to death. Stakes, bullets, knives and other weapons can kill us if it hinders our blood flow to an important organ and body part. Also, our bodies can’t repair something as extreme as decapitation,” said Callum.
“Unfortunately, my father made enemies in the vampire community,” Logan explained. “Being vampires themselves, they knew his vulnerabilities and attacked him one night when he was traveling alone.”
“I’m so sorry. How long ago did this happen?”
“It was just after the Scottish rebellion. My father suggested that we organize and lend our strength to the Jacobite cause after the massacre at Culloden. However, many of our kind at the time vehemently opposed interfering in mortal affairs,” explained Logan.
“Wow,” Syd said quietly.
“Now you understand why we fled Scotland. We traveled first to France, but we cut our time there short when the French Revolution started brewing. Luckily, across the Atlantic, the Americans had just established their own government. We moved to North Carolina in 1788, and the rest is history, so to speak,” Logan said with a grin.
“My family didn’t come over until the late 1870s from England, so I guess that makes you more American than me,” she said, an adorable lopsided grin on her face. “And that goes a long way to explain why your Scottish accent isn’t stronger.”
