Broken Heart Town 2 - Don't Talk Back to Your Vampire

by Michele Bardsley

  He drew me into his embrace. "I fear that I am not good enough for you. That you deserve someone better than me. Someone like Ralph."

  Ralph? I hadn't thought about him since the night he tried to ask me out. He was a nice guy, but he wasn't Lorcan. You'll know when you meet the right one, Eva, because your heart will recognize him. Mom was right. My heart keened for Lorcan.

  "So, I don't think I'm beautiful and you don't think you're worthy. I suppose we'll have to work on our self-esteem issues."

  He laughed.

  Emboldened, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

  His lips met mine and I could feel his uncertainty. I tried to kiss away his doubts. Maybe lust could burn off all but the essentials between us.

  Too soon, he pulled away. I felt dizzy with want, with need. As Jessica might say, Lorcan offered me melt-your-bones passion. I had never known this kind of mind-numbing carnality. I was uncomfortably aware that my desire for Lorcan was intricately connected to more than just a need for sex.

  "Worry not, love. I will take care of the library." Lorcan's lips curved into his half-sad smile and he smoothed my brow with his thumb. "Stay with Tamara for as long as you can. There are rooms in the basement—you can shelter in one until tomorrow night. I promise you that Tamara will be safe during the day."

  I hated the thought of not being closer to her while I slept. But I knew that my daughter would be cared for and protected.

  He gave me one light kiss, a promise, I hoped.

  "Thank you, Lorcan."

  He rested his forehead against mine and whispered words I didn't understand. "For protection," he murmured. His eyes were like a gray mist, filled with secrets I desperately wanted to know. When had I stopped fearing him? It didn't matter. I was very aware of my new feelings for Lorcan and they all involved heat and light and motion.

  "Good night, Eva."

  "G'night." I felt all moon-eyed and tingly again as I watched him sparkle out of sight. Eventually I would be able to do the same, but it took a while for Turn-bloods to learn their powers.

  Feeling both giddy and bereft, I returned to the hallway. I glanced at Damian, who leaned against the far wall, looking at me. I didn't sense anger in him; in fact, it was as if an invisible wall had been put around his thoughts.

  The lycanthrope jerked his head toward the end of the hallway and raised his eyebrows. I followed him until we reached the exit door. Once again, he leaned against the wall and looked at the floor, apparently gathering his thoughts. "Whatever you saw when you were poking around in my head… you must not believe first appearances."

  For once, I could see past his tough exterior. I didn't think Damian the type of man who tried to correct another's impression of him. Why should my opinion matter? I didn't know, but all the same, I was flattered—and confused. I risked putting my hand on his arm. "I didn't poke around. I heard your thoughts and the image came unbidden. I have to wonder why you were thinking of it when you were also thinking of Faustus."

  "I don't have to explain myself," he said stiffly.

  "No, you don't."

  He stared at me for a long moment. "Faustus reminded me of old sorrows. You see, the lycanthropes are dying out. We don't have many females and more than half of our pups born don't live past a year."

  "I'm so sorry, Damian." Empathy welled. I was a mother. The very idea of losing Tamara terrified me. I couldn't imagine being a mother who knew that the child I bore had a fifty percent chance of dying.

  He inclined his head. Sighing, he continued, "We are not unknown to the humans, especially in Germany. The Deutsches Reich knew about us. During World War Two, they raided our villages and took us to the death camps. Adolf Hitler wanted to build a master race, but he was thinking more along the lines of strength, near-immortality, and the ability to change form. But lycan DNA does not combine well with other species' DNA."

  "Is that why the tainted vampires who are given lycan blood turn into those creatures?"

  "The Wraiths keep using blood taken from lycans they've murdered. Such blood is less potent and more unstable. It changes them before it kills them."

  The lycan-blood transfusion had transformed Lorcan. But he'd been infused with royal plasma from living donors. Obviously his body had a battle with the lycan DNA and he temporarily became the same kind of creature as the others. But Lorcan not only survived the process, he was cured of the taint.

  "Thanks to the Reich, our small numbers got smaller. The women—they suffered the most." He paused, waving a hand as if he could wipe away such a terrible history. "They took our only sister—Danielle. She was the youngest of us, and as a girl, very prized, very beloved. We tracked her to a death camp. My brothers and I captured the guards and took their uniforms. The image you saw, ja?" He tapped his temple.

  I nodded.

  "We were too late to save her. We were too late to save anyone."

  I didn't have any words for Damian. How could you soothe such a festering wound? I hadn't considered how human events and history had affected paranormal beings. And surely there was a whole parakind history filled with amazing experiences that no human had ever known about.

  "Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "I sympathize, Damian. I'm truly sorry for your loss. But how can I help?"

  "The others, they debate about you and your special ability. They think about how to use you to further the Consortium goals. And I—I think the same thing, Eva. About how to use you to serve my purpose."

  I tried not to shiver at his intensity or show evidence of my sudden fear. "What do you want from me?"

  "Nefertiti."

  "Her dance card is getting full," I said, grimacing. The woman sure knew how to make enemies.

  "You said she has been hiding in the form of Lucifer," said Damian.

  I hadn't quite figured out how Nefertiti could turn into a cat, but I felt sure she was doing so. "My telepathy only works with animals who can take human form, so it's a logical conclusion."

  "You are very smart, so I believe your conclusion." He nodded sharply. "I want her captured, Eva. I want her to pay."

  I was still reeling from being called smart by someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a more advanced being. Then the words Damian had spoken filtered through my scattered thoughts. "Wait a minute. You want Nefertiti to pay for what?"

  "For murdering my sister. Who do you think led the squad that captured her?" He laughed bitterly. "I'll give you one guess who instigated the hunts and who made a deal with the Reich."

  "Ron, the esteemed leader of the Wraiths."

  He nodded sharply. Another kind of grief was filtering out from his psychic protections. I couldn't argue that he mourned his sister's death, but there was a deeper reason for his need for vengeance.

  "Why not let the Roma track and capture her?"

  "Nein und abermals nein!"

  Surprised at his vehemence, I took a step back. He made a visible effort to control his temper.

  "What's your problem with the Roma?"

  "In a way, the lycanthropes and the Roma are cousins, if you will. Our legacy is to protect vampires and theirs is to hunt them."

  "You mean Durriken and other Roma can turn into werewolves?"

  "Only one night each month—on the full moon."

  "And you don't mate with them because…"

  His face went white, not with fury, but with pain. There was a story, I was sure. I was a hair shy of delving into his thoughts to assuage my curiosity, but I didn't.

  "We will not mate with Roma. It is a royal decree."

  The words sounded as if they'd been pulled out by force. To change the subject, I said, "Everyone is so focused on Nefertiti that they forget about Johnny. He's an innocent. He shouldn't die or be tormented because of his wife."

  "Why do you think she bound herself to him?" asked Damian. "For protection. So that those as tenderhearted as you would decry her punishment."

  What kind of woman would seduce and bind another to her t
o protect herself? She had banked on the idea that if caught, she would not be killed because her life was bound to Johnny's.

  "I don't know where she is," I said. "And even if I did, I'm not sure I would tell you."

  "You still look at the world through the eyes of a human. That will change over time." His gaze was thoughtful. "I underestimated you, Liebling," he said softly. "I shall not do so again."

  Too soon dawn arrived. Tamara was sleeping, so I kissed her forehead and whispered, "Good night."

  I followed Dr. Merrick to the basement, where she showed me a room with a simple cot, pillow, and blanket.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "You'll be safe in here," she reassured me. "Drake and Darrius are watching Tamara. She'll be okay."

  We wished each other good night and she pulled the door shut behind her.

  As I sat on the bed, I shuddered, just a little, at the rough feel of cotton. The pillow looked too droopy. I wished mightily for my bed, my sheets, and my pillows.

  Feeling lonely, I sat down and indulged in a little moping. My body was already feeling heavy. In a few minutes, I would pass out on the cot, Egyptian cotton or not.

  "A stóirín," said Lorcan as he sparkled into sight. He held three big pillows and the top sheet from my bed.

  "Lorcan!" I was still getting used to him popping in and out of places. I got up from the bed and we replaced the bedding.

  "Thank you so much."

  "You are welcome. I must return to my own sleeping quarters," he said regretfully. He studied me, then asked, "You have something on your mind?"

  He was astute. Or he was in my mind again. "Damian told me he wants me to find Nefertiti so he can kill her. Doesn't he care about Johnny?"

  Lorcan sat on the cot and patted it. "We all care about Johnny. As a Consortium member, he has our protection."

  "Did you find him?"

  "Not yet." He took my hand and wound his fingers through mine. "You must not think badly of Damian. He has good reason to punish Nefertiti."

  "I know. Nefertiti captured his sister. She died at a death camp."

  "She also killed his pregnant wife."

  "That's horrible!" I wondered why Damian hadn't told me. Obviously, he'd erected the psychic barrier to keep me from that information.

  "Maria was six months pregnant with twins. When Nefertiti and her squad raided the village, Maria fought fiercely. Nefertiti herself wielded the blade that robbed Maria of her children, then of her life."

  I felt sick. "Damian told me that his species was dying out. He also said that the pure lycanthropes weren't allowed to mate with the Roma."

  "Maria was a royal Roma, and Damian was a royal lycan. The marriage was one of love, but also promised a new beginning for lycans. The hope was that they would propagate both species of lycans."

  "Then he issued the ban?"

  "When he discovered his slain wife, he saw that his unborn children were mutated. Had they gone to term, they would not have survived the birth. So he decreed that no pureblood would mate with Roma."

  "I feel scared," I admitted. "If anyone could find Nefertiti, I could. Too many people want to get their hands on her for me to feel safe."

  "I will see to your and Tamara's protection." He hugged me. "No one will harm you, Eva. I swear it."

  I dreamed of the tower. Like the time before, I escaped the growling dangers tracking me in the dark woods. I pressed the golden rose etched on the black stone to get inside and I followed the blue orbs to the top of the stairs.

  I knew what awaited me in the four-poster. All the same, I drew back the shimmery curtains.

  "Your fate is sealed," the wolf said, baring his sharp fangs. "You cannot escape me."

  He leapt toward me, his maw opened toward my throat.

  "Stay!" I screamed.

  The wolf was flung to the bed and he cowered there, whining as though I had struck him.

  "Remember this," I said. "I choose my own fate."

  The wolf disappeared in a puff of black smoke. In his place was a single gold rose.

  Chapter 13

  When I awoke in the hospital basement, I felt bereft. That damned dream! I didn't feel like that snarling creature belonged in my tower. I was glad to vanquish him. I was still searching for the one beautiful thing that would complete me. I thought of the gold rose. The symbolism couldn't be plainer: Gold rose equaled Lorcan.

  I rolled off the cot and stretched. Whew. I couldn't wait to take a shower and change clothes. But first I would visit Tamara. Then I would call Alison for my pint. Oh, wait. No cell phone. I wondered if Lorcan had found my backpack.

  I took the stairs to the third floor. As I eased out of the door, I found Charlie standing in the hallway waiting for me.

  "Oh, hey," I said. After our last feeding experience together, I was still feeling awkward. "How are you?"

  "I wanted to apologize, Eva. I don't know what happened. I would never hurt you or… Please, I'm really sorry." He gaze flicked to the gold rose pinned on my shirt. "I see you have a better one." Blushing, he handed me a white rose, which I accepted. I pushed away my uneasiness and smiled at him. This was Charlie—he was as harmless as a puppy. I was hungry, he was my donor, so what was the issue? I pointed at an empty room. "Is in there okay?"

  The grin split his face. He eagerly entered the room and I followed, shutting the door behind us to ensure privacy.

  I felt dizzy with hunger and more than ready to sink my fangs into Charlie's artery.

  He waited for me on the hospital bed nearest the window. He'd turned on the light above the raised bed, but the rest of the place remained in the dark. I also noticed he'd opened the window.

  Charlie was prone to feeling claustrophobic even in a large space. I wasn't surprised he wanted to feel the slight breeze.

  I sat next to him, laying the rose on the bed.

  "I'm really sorry about Tamara. She's a nice kid."

  "I appreciate your concern, Charlie."

  He leaned over and tapped his exposed neck. "I know you're hungry," he said. "If you need to take a little more than usual, that's okay."

  "Thanks." The first few moments with a donor were always awkward for me. They knew the score—they were voluntary vampire food. They received excellent compensation for being our sustenance. All the same, it wasn't a profession for everyone. At least donors had a choice about whether or not to give blood. Vampires had no choice at all—either we drank blood or we starved to death.

  I was starving now, so I wasted no time, holding on to his shoulders and sinking my fangs in. I drank deeply and though I had learned when to stop, I took Charlie up on his offer to enjoy a little more. Finally, I drew away, wiping off the blood spots from his neck. Thanks to the anesthetic injected from vampire fangs and the healing properties of vampire saliva, donors rarely felt pain and nearly always healed instantly.

  "Thanks, Charlie." I licked my lips as my fangs receded. "Did you try a new diet? You tasted kinda… tangy."

  He slid off the bed, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Eva."

  "You don't have to apologize for what you eat." I smiled. "I don't apologize for what I eat."

  Dizziness assailed me. I rubbed my temples as the world tilted. What the heck?

  "Charlie… what's… happening?"

  "It's okay," he reassured me. "Because you're mine. He told me so. You'll be okay, Eva. Then we can be together."

  He wasn't making sense. My vision grayed as I watched Charlie fade back into the shadows. I fell sideways onto the bed, unable to feel my arms or legs.

  The last thing I remembered was two piercing red eyes staring at me from the open window.

  "Eva?"

  I heard the voice from very, very far away. I struggled toward the sound of my name. It felt as though metal liquid surrounded me, heavy yet buoyant. Weird. I wanted to swim toward the person calling me, but I couldn't lift my eyelids, much less my arms.

  Aren't you tired? You deserve a rest.

  I stopped struggling a
nd listened to the new voice.

  "Evangeline." Lorcan again. Soft and sweet.

  I didn't know which way to turn. I couldn't reach the Irish-tinged voice that said my name so tenderly. Oh, I wanted to go to him desperately. Lorcan.

  Tsk. Tsk. So many worries, so many cares.

  Where should I go? What should I do?

  You're exactly where you need to be.

  "Where are you, love?" I heard Lorcan again. I could almost feel him reach me, his long, pale fingers stretching toward mine. He sounded insistent and I could feel his worry. Yet it was too difficult to think, to hold on.

  Ssshh. It's okay. Just…let…go.

  Comforted by the other voice, I turned away from Lorcan and let the odd ocean carry me away.

  "We don't have much time."

  I recognized the voice. Yes, he had told me it was okay to let go. Reassurance whispered through me. Sweet Eva. It's okay. It's all right.

  Lord-a-mercy, I felt sleepy. I managed to open my eyes, but I couldn't quite focus on the faces hovering over mine.

  "We must hurry."

  "Are you sure this is the wisest course of action, mein Freund?"

  "Don't question me, Otto."

  Soft, warm flesh pressed against my lips and blood seeped into my mouth. I didn't really want to drink, but reflex kicked in and I did.

  "Very good, Eva. Very good."

  The blood tasted strange; I gagged.

  "Ssshh. Almost done. There now."

  The kind voice soothed me and when I was finished drinking, I drifted away once again.

  The warrior's cry woke me.

  My body flopped onto a hard, bumpy surface and rolled until I smacked something very big and scratchy.

  I couldn't quite fathom where I was or what had happened to me. My eyes refused to open and my head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton, soaked in alcohol, and set on fire.

  Charlie. Whatever substance he'd put into his bloodstream was meant to sedate me. Betrayal settled like a cold, hard lump in my stomach.

  Oh, Charlie! How could you? More important, why would he dope himself in order to dope me? What about that encounter with the strange men hovering over me? Had I only dreamed it?