A series of barking coughs erupted from the front room. “Ned?” Anne said between coughs.
“I’m right here.” He carried the steaming cup of tea into the room. “Will you try this? It’s sage tea, an old-fashioned Comanche cure for fever and coughs.”
Her lip curled up. “What’s it taste like?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“Sage,” Ned told her. “It’s a little bitter, but I added some sugar. I can dump some honey in too if you want.”
She sat up and peered at the murky contents of the cup. “Will it help?”
“Yeah, it should.”
“Okay, I’ll try it.” Anne sipped it and frowned. “Yuck. It tastes terrible. Let me try some honey with it.”
He added some to the brew and she drank a little more. “That’s a little better, I guess. Thanks for making it, Ned.”
“De nada.” He watched her drink it.
“You’ve drunk this before, I guess.”
“Yeah. I wish you weren’t sick, though.”
A faint smile fluttered across her mouth and faded. “Do you have any other old Native American healing tricks up your sleeve?”
Despite his worry, he grinned. “I might.”
“Like what?”
He couldn’t do what he’d like unless the electricity came back. As Ned hesitated, the lights flickered. Then they dimmed and came on. He held his breath, willing the power to remain and after a few minutes, it did. “We’ve got lights!” Anne cried. “Oh, I’m glad.”
“Me, too,” Ned said. “Now I can try the other idea.”
“What is it?”
Ned knew she wouldn’t like it if he painted her face to ward off evil entities but he’d already made up his mind to create a modern version of a sweat lodge. He could remember being ill and taken to a sweat lodge so the impurities in his body could be leached away. Without a word, he pulled away the hides and scooped Anne into his arms. He carried her, listening to her faint-hearted protests, into the bathroom and sat her down on the closed lid of the commode. “Strip,” he told her.
She stared at him. “What are we doing, Ned?”
“I’m about to make the closest thing to a sweat lodge I can,” he told her. “Get out of your clothes. Now the power’s on, I’m going to run the hottest water possible in the shower and let this room steam up. You’re going to sweat and I think it’ll help, honey, but it’s better if you’re naked.”
Anne cocked her head and considered his idea. “All right. It might work. I’ve heard of people doing it for babies with croup.”
He had no clue what croup might be, but he figured it might work. “And I’m going to sing,” he told her.
“Sing?”
“It’s a healing song,” he explained. “If I wanted to do it right, I’d paint my face and yours, but I won’t. I doubt I’d get the right patterns anyway. But I’ll do what I can remember and hope it’s enough. It’s been a while.”
Ned didn’t know what all the words meant. Some were an archaic form of Comanche so ancient no one living would recognize them. But he knew the intention and he sang them with emotion. And it worked or appeared to make a difference.
On Sunday, Anne wasn’t coughing as much. Monday brought warmer temperatures and the snow melted, making the roads passable. By then, she claimed to be well on the road to recovery and Ned agreed she appeared much improved. “I’d just stay here until we go home for Christmas, but I have finals to do first.”
“When’s your last day?”
“December 19,” Anne told him. “I thought we’d leave for Rusk on the twenty-third if that’s okay, stay through Christmas and come home.”
Committed to the trip, Ned nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
And did.
Chapter Eleven
The five and a half hour trip from Lawton to Rusk took Ned almost seven. Although they got an early start and stopped for breakfast in Wichita Falls they would’ve been on time if he hadn’t had a flat tire right as they entered Fort Worth. He rolled the truck to a halt on the shoulder and changed it but his spare wasn’t much better, so Ned decided it’d be best to stop long enough to buy a new one. “If we don’t,” he told Anne, “it’s likely we’ll have another flat before I get you home.”
“As long as we’re there by supper time, it’s fine. Mom’s cooking a special meal for us.”
“I think I can promise we’ll make it.”
At the next tire shop he saw Ned paid for a balanced set of four new tires and they waited behind four other vehicles until they were in place. By then it was almost noon and although they were behind schedule, Anne wanted to grab a quick sandwich. Ned had no desire to eat or drink blood. He’d sated himself the night before at the casino. His bosses approved his vacation request with an obvious lack of enthusiasm after his sick days during the blizzard. It might be coming time to change jobs, something he’d done often over the years.
“We’ll stop at the next burger joint we come across,” he promised Anne. A mile or so down the road, still within the urban sprawl of Dallas-Fort Worth Ned spotted a What-A-Burger. Anne ordered a cheeseburger, he had two and they headed on for the home stretch.
Although the weather forecast called for clouds and rain, the sun emerged and brightened everything. Ned cursed in silence. He knew he’d look pale and washed out in its brilliance, something he’d rather avoid. As they headed eastward along the two-lane highway into the Piney Woods country Anne fidgeted until he realized she’d become nervous about this holiday homecoming. She confirmed it minutes later.
“Ned?”
He knew the tone, a little sharp and a lot uncertain. “What is it, honey?”
“You aren’t going to start any of that vampire talk, are you?”
Her words stunned him. “What brought that on?”
“I don’t know,” Anne said in a hesitant voice. Then her words tumbled out in swift jumble. “Well, I do know. You haven’t mentioned it again, but…”
“You asked me not to, Anne.”
“I know and I appreciate it. But sometimes, the things you do are so old-fashioned, I’d almost believe it.”
He couldn’t believe what he heard. “Like what?”
“Well, when I was sick, you did that medicine man chant thing.”
“You mean the eagle doctor song?”
“Yes, that. And made a mini-sweat lodge and made the awful sage tea.”
“And?” He didn’t see anything so out of the ordinary about any of it.
“It’s almost enough to make me think you really lived a long time ago. No guy I know would think of such things or do them.”
“So what are you saying?”
She scooted a few inches away from him and stared at him with serious eyes. “Nothing, really, just it made me think about some of your old timey ways and all. And for a minute, I almost wondered if it was true, but then common sense returned and I knew it was silly to even consider it.”
He’d never wanted to tell her more than this moment. She sees it, he thought, but she refuses to admit it. “Anne…”
Before he could complete the sentence she cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just said something so you won’t bring it up around my parents, okay?”
“Sure. I wasn’t planning to,” Ned told her. “Are you worked up about bringing me home with you?”
“No, just about coming home.”
Fine time to learn she had doubts. “Honey, this was your idea, not mine. I thought you wanted to visit for Christmas.”
“I do,” Anne said. “But it’s never the Norman Rockwell holiday, you know that.”
Ned didn’t. He knew the name, some artist who’d painted happy family scenes a long time. He’d had a calendar, once. But his experience with holidays had limits and his family died long ago. “No, I don’t, Anne, not really. I told you I don’t decorate or do Christmas.”
“You did but I didn’t think you could be serious.”
“I was.” Damned if they
weren’t flirting with an argument and he didn’t know why. “Is there something you want to tell me before we get there?”
Anne sat up in the seat, her back rigid as a stone and straight as the edge of a ruler. She glared at him and then her expression changed. Some of the tension in her posture slackened. “Oh, Ned, no, there’s not. And I’m sorry I’m acting like such a bitch. I guess I’m nervous about bringing someone new home to meet the parents. I’m not as worried about what you’ll do as what they might.”
“I can handle it.” Ned had no doubts. He could deal with anything, he figured although he’d rather not.
“Daddy can be mean sometimes,” Anne told him. “He’s cruel if he’s drinking. And he will be, sooner or later, for Christmas. Promise me you won’t get drunk.”
With a mixture of disdain and disgust Ned snorted. “I don’t really drink much, Anne. You ought to know that by now.”
Her smile blossomed, bright as a daffodil before it faded. “I didn’t think so and I’m so glad. I guess I should tell you Christmas isn’t always happy. Daddy will drink too much and that’ll make Mama cry. My uncles will argue and if we get through the celebration without someone walking out in anger, we’ll be doing something.”
Although it’d be a long trip to turn around and head home, Ned considered it. “I wish you’d told me this before we came, Anne.”
She scooted back beside him and put her hand on his thigh. “I figured you’d know how the holidays usually go in real life. If you’d rather not experience it, I guess you could drop me off at my folks and head for one of the two motels in town.”
Ned’s warrior’s heart wouldn’t let him abandon his woman. “Hell, no. I’m not going to leave you in such a mess alone. But if it’s like that, why’d you want to come home so bad?”
Anne sighed and made a little laugh. “It’s Christmas and somewhere in all the craziness, there’ll be a few good moments. And it brings back so many memories … happy ones.”
If he lived forever, which seemed likely, Ned would never understand the white mind. But he didn’t tell Anne because it would wound her feelings. “I love you,” he said instead. “Let’s go do this thing.”
As they entered Rusk Ned decided it wasn’t much different than other small towns he’d seen. To Ned’s relief, heavy clouds rolled in to block the sunlight. Anne directed him to a street a few blocks away from the downtown business district and pointed. “There’s home.”
The two-story house, sandwiched between similar homes, fit between a pair of tall oaks. He parked behind the other vehicles and before he could grab their luggage from the back, Anne leaped out and sprinted to the porch. Ned saw why when he spotted an older man, thin and spare, waiting. “Daddy!” Anne cried as she hugged the man and Ned watched as Anne’s father wrapped one arm around his daughter’s back. His other hand held a smoldering cigarillo.
Ned approached with their bags, wary and uncertain. He knew how to deal with enemies in open combat or on a raid by using violent force. Meeting a stranger who wore a stern expression beneath his graying hair presented a greater challenge. Ned paused at the foot of the porch steps. “Ned, this is my dad,” Anne told him. “Robert Delahanty. Daddy, this is Ned Big Eagle.”
“Call me Bob,” Mr. Delahanty said as he extended a hand. “I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but I don’t know you yet. Maybe I will be in time.”
His laconic Texas drawl irritated Ned, but he summoned up a pleasant expression to mask his emotions. “Thanks, Bob,” he replied. He wondered what else he might say without sounding stupid or starting a fight.
Anne intervened. She linked her arm through his. “Come on, let’s go meet my mama.”
Anne led him into the house along a hallway toward the back. On the way Ned noticed the huge Christmas tree glittering in the front parlor, the gifts heaped beneath its branches, and the mantelpiece covered with fresh holly. Every room they passed contained the same kind of bric-a-brac, dried flowers, potpourri, ceramic angels and such Anne had in her apartment. In the kitchen, Anne’s mother bent over the table as she rolled out dough. She glanced up and smiled.
Although her face wore more age and Ned noted the fine lines cut into her skin, she looked much like Anne. Her hair was short, though, cut and curled tight and her body a little heavier. “Hi, honey,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got supper cooking but I thought I’d make a couple of pies for dessert. I’d hug you but I’m covered in flour. This must be your Ned.”
“Yes, it is. Ned, this is my mom, Rose Delahanty.”
Her smile radiated genuine warmth so Ned nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Thank you for inviting me to spend Christmas with your family.”
Rose laughed although she never lost rhythm with her rolling pin. “Anne’s the one invited you, but you’re welcome. You can put your bags in the guest room. Anne can show you.”
“Thanks.” Guest room? He’d figured they would share sleeping space until now. Anne led him back to the stairs. Once upstairs, Ned paused. Three bedrooms opened from the top of the staircase and an open area at the end of the hall held a daybed.
“Put my stuff here,” Anne said. “I get to sleep here.”
“So where’s this guest room?”
She pointed to a narrow flight of steps he hadn’t noticed. “It’s in the attic. They remodeled it a few years ago into a kind of studio bedroom space. It’s not bad, just no bathroom.”
He stared upward. “I kinda thought we’d be sleeping together, honey.”
Pink flushed her cheeks. “Well, I didn’t. I knew mama and daddy wouldn’t hear of it. But we’ll just be here a couple more days.”
Disappointment didn’t begin to cover how he felt. “Well, shit.”
“I’m sorry, Ned.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he said. Anne’s odd expression warned him there must be more. “What else didn’t you tell me?”
The blush turned crimson. “Well, everyone’s coming home so there’s a full house. Mama and Daddy share the front bedroom. Timothy and his wife are sleeping in my old room. My sister’s in the other room with her kids. Tim’s kids are downstairs in the den. I’m out on the landing and then you’re in the guest room with my brother David. He just got divorced and he’s having a hard time. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of space and two separate beds.”
Ned’s temper had mellowed over many years, but anger rose up, hot and powerful. “Anne, you should’ve told me.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come if you knew.”
“I probably wouldn’t have,” he said with force. “Or I’d have brought along my damn lodge and set it up in the backyard. I don’t know your brother. He’s a stranger to me.”
“You didn’t know me when we met.”
“That’s different.” And it was, although he couldn’t explain how. He was a man, she was a woman and there had been a spark between them. And Anne knew something about his culture. Ned doubted her brother did.
“Is everything all right up there?” Bob called up the stairs. The aroma of his cigarillo followed his voice and Ned craved a smoke.
Anne shot Ned a sideways glance. “We’re fine, Daddy.”
“Better be,” he returned. “Sara’s here with the kids.”
“Okay, we’ll be down in a few.” Anne turned back to Ned. “You’re mad.”
He nodded. “Yeah, a little. I’m not used to sharing space.”
Her expression softened. “I know, Ned. And I should’ve told you. I didn’t think you’d mind so much.”
Some of his anger waned. “Aw, I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I’m different than most people, especially taibo. I can stand it for a few days, I guess. If not, I’ll rough it in the yard. I’ve slept out plenty.”
She reached out her hand and stroked his arm. “Don’t do that. It’s going to be cold.”
Ned couldn’t stay angry. “I don’t suppose your brother can sleep on the landing and you can bunk with me?”
“All right, come show me where I’m sleeping,” Ned told her. Anne nodded and he followed her up the narrow stairs. The huge open room offered comforts, a television, a stereo, a mini-fridge and two full-size beds, one on either side of the space. Several worn but still serviceable recliners faced the TV beside a pair of scarred end tables. He tossed his single canvas bag onto the bed nearest the windows. At least he’d be able to look outside. “Come here, honey.”
“What?” Anne asked as she obeyed. Ned said no more but he pulled her over and planted a full kiss on her mouth. At his touch Anne’s body lost its tense stance. She molded against him as his lips sought hers. She met the kiss and gave it back with powerful heat. His dick hardened as their connection deepened and he yearned to take her. Ned undid her blouse and ran his hands over her breasts. Beneath the thin lace of her bra, Anne’s nipples tightened and swelled. Ned let his lips stray from her warm mouth down her throat. When Ned breathed against her nipples, she moaned.
“Like it?” he whispered.
“Very much.” Anne shivered and Ned savored the ripple. She ran her fingers over the back of his neck, beneath his braid.
Her light touch ramped up his desire another few notches. He wanted her now and meant to take her. Ned whispered, “Turn around.” Anne obliged and he leaned her over one of the recliner seats. He jerked down her slacks and panties, then undid his belt and jeans. His cock emerged, swollen and solid as granite. “Bend forward,” he directed and when she did, he entered her moist pussy from behind. Ned slid into her and then rocked her, each stroke swift and intense. The different position fired an erotic delight and it swept over his body with the force of fire. He used his hips to thrust in and out. Although Anne crammed a fist into her mouth to prevent making noise, a few sharp pitched sounds escaped.
Somewhere outside Ned caught the sound of multiple car doors slamming and a babble of voices but he paid little mind. He wasn’t thinking but reacting on a physical level. As the pleasure level climbed, his tension increased and he growled into Anne’s ear, “Come with me.”
The Comanche Vampire Page 14
