The Lady Is a Vamp: An Argeneau Novel

by Lynsay Sands

  She smiled back, relief pouring through her. It was going to work out. He wanted to be her life mate. He would be a true life mate, and not simply do it to save Livy. This was what she’d hoped for, what she’d needed to be sure of before she could reveal the way to save Livy and have him too. Closing her eyes briefly, she savored the moment and then opened her eyes and said, “I want that too. I want to turn you and spend the rest of my very long life with you as my mate.”

  He started to smile, but just as quickly frowned instead. “But if you turn me, you can’t turn Livy.”

  “No, but you could,” she pointed out with a wide grin, and then cautioned, “But it means if I died, you wouldn’t be able to turn any future life mate you might encounter who was mortal.” Jeanne Louise really didn’t think that would matter to him. That he would put Livy above such a consideration, but felt Paul should have all the facts before he made his decision.

  As expected, he waved her words away as unimportant. “You aren’t going to die, I won’t let you. Besides, no one could replace you for me,” he added solemnly.

  Jeanne Louise didn’t point out that he’d probably felt that way about his mortal wife Jerri at one time. She simply leaned down and kissed him, relieved that things had worked out after all. Well, at least things with him. There was still the fact that he’d kidnapped her to get her to turn and save his daughter. They would have to deal with that and the council, and especially her uncle, who headed up the council and could be pretty unforgiving about things like that. The man had beheaded his own twin brother whom he’d loved dearly when the man had broken one of their laws.

  The thought made Jeanne Louise frown and worry her lip. She’d been so worried about how to woo Paul and get him to want her for herself that she hadn’t even started to consider the other troubles ahead of them.

  “So,” Paul said quietly, “You could turn me, and I could then turn Livy?”

  Jeanne Louise nodded.

  “And we could be a family. You, Livy and me,” he said.

  “Yes, we could,” she said softly and was as pleased at the thought as he appeared to be. Jeanne Louise already loved the little girl as her own. She would enjoy helping to raise her.

  Realizing that Paul had been quiet for a while, she glanced to him and frowned when she saw him pinching his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to wake myself up,” he said dryly. “This has to be a dream. You’re giving me everything I want and life just never goes that smoothly.”

  Jeanne Louise bit her lip, and then said, “I didn’t say it was going to go smoothly.”

  Paul stopped pinching himself and met her gaze solemnly. “Tell me.”

  “The turn is very painful, Paul. It’s an ordeal and sometimes the turnee dies. It’s rare, but it has happened in cases where the turnee is ill or otherwise weakened.”

  “Like Livy,” he said on a sigh.

  “Yes. So we might want to hold off on turning her for a bit, until we get her stronger.”

  “Which means you’ll be suffering her headaches for her,” Paul said grimly, and then stilled and asked, “Can I do that for her after you turn me?”

  Jeanne Louise knew he felt a lot of guilt over her suffering in Livy’s stead, so was almost sorry to tell him, “Probably not. You need to be trained in stuff like that. You won’t come out of the turn with the knowledge and skills of an immortal who’s been trained in it.”

  “Right,” he said unhappily.

  Jeanne Louise hesitated to add to his unhappiness and worries, but he had to know, so she added, “And that’s not our only problem. There’s the little matter of your kidnapping an immortal with the intention of convincing them to turn Livy.”

  Paul grimaced. “I suppose that’s not going to go over well, is it?”

  “It could be a problem,” she admitted, and then added, “But hopefully the fact that I stayed willingly and that you’re my life mate will be taken into account.”

  Jeanne Louise could tell from the worry on his expression that he didn’t think that was likely. Since it was a worry on her own mind, she decided they’d done enough talking and it was time for some distraction . . . for both of them. To that end, she leaned down and kissed him.

  Paul lay still and unmoving under the gentle caress at first, his mind obviously preoccupied with the possible problems ahead of them. But after a moment he began to kiss her back. She was just starting to think she’d succeeded in distracting him when he suddenly caught her arms and forced her back to break the kiss.

  Catching sight of her disappointed expression, he said, “I just—you said we’re only allowed one child every hundred years. Do we have to wait until Livy is one hundred before we have a child? Should we be using protection?” he asked, and then added huskily, “I don’t want to risk you being put to death for—”

  “No,” Jeanne Louise interrupted. She didn’t take the time to explain that an immortal woman could only get pregnant and carry the child to term if she deliberately overfed on blood to keep the nanos busy enough not to expel the child as a parasite, but simply said, “Livy will be counted as your turn, not a child born of an immortal.”

  “Right.” He relaxed and even managed a smile. “So it’s okay to start on a little sister for her right away?”

  “I’d like that,” Jeanne Louise admitted quietly, though she knew it wasn’t possible. She simply didn’t have access to the blood needed to get pregnant.

  Before Paul could respond, the sound of something skittering across the floor upstairs made them both stiffen and glance toward the door. It sounded like a toy or something else small had been sent sliding across the hardwood, as if it had been batted about or accidentally kicked.

  “It’s probably Boomer,” Paul murmured. Turning back to her he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and said, “I’ll check and call if it’s Livy and you’re needed.”

  Jeanne Louise nodded and sat up as he rolled off the bed. “I’ll dress just in case.”

  “There’s no need,” Paul said, but paused as he glanced back to see that the blankets had slid to her waist leaving her bare from the waist up. Moving back to the bed, he kissed her again, this time on the lips. They were both breathless when he ended the kiss.

  “On second thought, you go ahead and dress,” Paul whispered, covering one breast with his hand and squeezing gently. “Then I can undress you again when I come back down.”

  Jeanne Louise chuckled at the words, and removed her arms from around his neck to allow him to straighten. She watched him put on his jeans, her eyes eating up every inch of him before he pulled them up. Despite all the difficulties and problems, they’d managed to work it out. She could hardly believe it. She hadn’t thought it possible. But it gave her hope that they could overcome the problems with the council too. They had to.

  “Back in a minute,” Paul promised, heading out of the room.

  Paul left the bedroom door open and used the light spilling from the room behind him to navigate his way to the stairs and start up them. Moonlight was shimmering through the windows as he reached the main floor, making it easier to see. He stepped off the stairs and turned to move toward the hall to the bedrooms, but froze as a dark shape appeared before him. It took a moment for his mind to process that it was a man in front of him with glowing eyes. And then the immortal bared his teeth, flashing some pretty nasty, pointy looking fangs as he growled, “Where is she?”

  Paul took a wary step back, and then gave a choked gasp as the man suddenly caught him by one hand at the throat and lifted him off the floor to bear him backward into the kitchen. In the next moment, his back hit what he thought was the refrigerator. At least he was sure it was the door handle of the refrigerator that slammed painfully into his arm as he hit.

  “It wasn’t very smart to let your daughter play out front, mortal. I was driving by and saw her, then I saw you.” He tightened his hand around his throat, snarling, “We know you have Jeanne Louise, and if you’ve hurt her, you’ll regret i
t the rest of your very short and miserable days. Now where is she?”

  Unable to speak, Paul tried to shake his head that he hadn’t hurt Jeanne Louise, but even that was impossible with the man’s grip on his throat. In the next moment he felt a strange ruffling in his head and realized the fellow didn’t need him to speak, he was looking for the answers in his head himself.

  Paul couldn’t breathe and darkness was starting to blur the corners of his sight. To stave off the panic trying to claim him, he told himself that he’d be released as soon as the immortal realized Jeanne Louise was here willingly, and that then he would be able to breathe again. But movement over the man’s shoulder caught his attention and he desperately blinked away the darkness trying to crowd in on him and stared with horror as he recognized Livy’s small figure standing by the stairs. As dark as it was he could tell that her eyes were wide, her mouth gaping with terror.

  His attacker must have caught some sound, or perhaps her scent, because the immortal suddenly swiveled his head, spearing the child with a look, his fangs still protruding and flashing white in the darkness. Livy’s eyes widened further, her face paling and then she shrieked in terror, and whirled to make a run for it. But Boomer was there. The small dog gave a squeal of pain as her foot came down on him, and then lunged away and scampered out of sight as Livy was pitched off balance and to the side. The sound of her small body tumbling down that curved stairway, and the way her cry was cut off so abruptly would haunt Paul for a long time.

  Jeanne Louise had got as far as pulling her panties and T-shirt back on when she heard Livy scream. Dropping the jeans she’d just picked up, she charged out of the bedroom just in time to see the child’s small body tumbling down the stairs in a blur of arms and legs.

  Crying out, she rushed forward, reaching the bottom of the stairs as Livy came to a halt there. The child landed on her back; arms and legs splayed and head to one side, her nightgown twisted around her little knees. Jeanne Louise dropped to kneel beside her to search for a pulse, her head lifting, eyes going hard as she spotted Justin Bricker coming down the stairs at speed.

  “Did you do this?” she growled accusingly just before Paul appeared at the top of the stairs and started down as well.

  “It was an accident,” the Enforcer said, sounding horrified. “She saw me and screamed and turned to run and—”

  “And you didn’t take control of her and stop her,” Jeanne Louise snapped.

  “I tried. I couldn’t,” Bricker said, guilt and confusion in his voice.

  Jeanne Louise scowled, then glanced to Paul as he reached the bottom of the stairs and found his way blocked by Justin. The immortal didn’t move, but kept him from reaching either of the females, ignoring his frantic efforts to push him aside.

  “Is she—?” Paul cut off the question, unable even to say the word dead.

  “She’s alive,” Jeanne Louise said as she found a pulse. She didn’t add “barely,” but feared that was the case. Livy’s pulse was weak and thready. Furious and afraid for the child, she started to slip her hands under the girl to pick her up, but froze as she felt the open gash on the back of her head.

  “Christ,” Justin muttered, and Jeanne Louise silently echoed the word. Lifting her even that much had revealed that the carpet where the girl had landed was soaked with blood.

  “Oh God,” Paul moaned and Jeanne Louise peered at him. He was no longer trying to get past Justin. In fact, he was swaying where he stood, his expression tortured. She felt her eyes fill with tears as she took in his pain. It was a pain she was suffering herself. Jeanne Louise had come to love the child dying before her, and she could no more stand by and watch it happen without doing anything to stop it than she could have if it were Paul lying there on the floor.

  She sent the man she loved a look of apology, then turned her gaze to Justin and glared at him with all the rage she was feeling as she gave up her future and did the only thing she could. Jeanne Louise bit violently into her wrist, ripping away a flap of skin. She then pressed the gushing wound to Livy’s open mouth.

  Thirteen

  “Jesus, Jeanne Louise, what are you doing?” Justin Bricker breathed with horror as she gave up her one turn to the child.

  Ignoring the question, she barked, “Call for help. We need blood and lots of it, an IV, and chain, as well as drugs to facilitate the turn.”

  Justin hesitated, but then pulled out his phone and began punching numbers. He also turned sideways to get past Paul and moved back upstairs as he pressed the phone to his ear.

  Free to approach now, Paul moved to kneel on Livy’s other side, uncertainty and fear battling on his face. He didn’t speak until Jeanne Louise removed her wrist from Livy’s mouth and scooped her up. He stood then to follow when she carried the girl into the bedroom they’d used, asking in a whisper, “Will she survive?”

  Jeanne Louise didn’t answer right away. She set the child on the bed and then turned her on her stomach so that she could examine the back of her head. The wound was as big as it had felt to her hand. She could see right through to her fractured skull.

  “I don’t know,” she said unhappily. It certainly didn’t look good. Not only was there the tumor for the nanos to contend with, and her weakened state, but now there was the head wound and the loss of blood.

  “Please don’t let her die,” Paul said quietly. It was a prayer really, a quiet request of God. But Jeanne Louise flinched as if he’d lashed her with the words.

  In the next moment, she suddenly raised her uninjured wrist to her fangs and tore into it with even more vicious intent than she had the first. Paul winced and started to turn away, but then forced himself to watch the woman he loved tear a great gaping wound into her wrist. She was doing this for him after all, for him and Livy.

  While Jeanne Louise had merely grunted the first time she bit herself, this time a shriek of pain was torn from her throat with the action. But then this time the wound she brought on was bigger, the flap of skin she tore away almost twice the size of the first. She then held this new gash over Livy’s injured head and began to squeeze the wound as if trying to get as much ketchup as possible out of a plastic bottle. Paul swallowed at the hissing breath she sucked in as she did it, knowing she was causing herself even more pain. He then turned and hurried from the room, and rushed to the bathroom between the two bedrooms.

  Paul felt like he was going to be sick, but that wasn’t why he’d come. He ignored the toilet, swallowed the bile in his throat and quickly opened the cupboard door under the sink. A stack of towels sat inside and he grabbed several and then hurried back to the bedroom where Jeanne Louise’s wrist had stopped gushing, the wound reduced to little more than a trickle. Still she squeezed at the wound trying to get more of the valuable liquid out.

  When she finally gave up on getting any more out, and let her wrists drop to her side, Paul stepped to her side and used the towels to bind first one wounded wrist and then the other, wrapping the towels tightly around each.

  “Why did you bleed on her head?” Paul asked quietly as he finished with the second wrist. “Will it help?”

  Jeanne Louise shook her head and heaved out a weary sigh. “I don’t know. It was the only thing I could think to do. The nanos might be able to heal the head wound. And her skull is cracked, they might be able to get through it to get to the tumor quickly and start to work on it. As to whether it will help or not though . . .” She shrugged helplessly.

  “It might help.”

  Paul turned sharply at that growl, his eyes narrowing on the man with short dark hair now entering the room.

  “Daddy!” Jeanne Louise said with relief and hurried forward to hug the man while Paul gaped.

  Daddy? The guy had short dark hair, wore jeans and a T-shirt and didn’t look a day over twenty-five. But then neither did Jeanne Louise, or any of the other immortals he’d ever met. None of them looked over twenty-five or so. Still . . . the guy didn’t look like he could be her father, Paul thought, and then chang
ed his mind on that when the man in question released Jeanne Louise and turned to spear him with a look of cold dislike and said, “Is this the bastard who kidnapped you, Jeanie?”

  “Oh . . . er . . . no,” Jeanne Louise said quickly, moving to put herself between Paul and her father. When her father turned a sharp look on her for the lie, she added, “I mean yes, but only at first. I’m not being held against my will anymore. He’s my life mate, Daddy. Or he was,” she added dully, her shoulders drooping unhappily as she glanced to Livy. Swallowing, she glanced back and asked, “Do you have any blood?”

  “We only have a couple bags left. Bricker went out to fetch them from the cooler in the van,” a woman’s voice answered.

  Paul shifted to the side to see who this new speaker was, his eyebrows rising as he spotted the tall black woman with short, spiked hair standing behind Jeanne Louise’s father. He recognized her at once as the woman in the van at the mall in London. Eshe, Jeanne Louise had said her name was. Her stepmother.

  “Only a couple bags?” Jeanne Louise echoed with dismay.

  “Nicholas and Jo are only a few minutes away and have more in their cooler, as do Etienne and Rachel. They were searching the small towns along Lake Huron for you too,” he explained.

  “How did you know we were on the lake?” Jeanne Louise asked with a frown.

  “After I spotted you leaving the mall parking lot, a debit withdrawal and credit card transaction popped up,” Eshe explained solemnly.

  When Jeanne Louise turned to him in question, Paul said helplessly, “We’d already been spotted in London. I figured it was safe enough to get gas and withdraw more money. They knew we were there and I didn’t think it would lead to their figuring out where we were.”

  “It wasn’t the cash or gas that told us. It was the raft and water wings,” her father said dryly. “Those along with the mosquito repellent suggested the beach to us so we concentrated on searching the waterside towns on either side of London.”