by Lynsay Sands
“Why?” she interrupted, finally turning to look at him.
He paused with his muffin halfway to his mouth, and lowered it slightly before admitting, “Because I don’t think you’re ready for the real thing yet.”
“But—”
“And I’m mortal. My parts don’t grow back if you have a flashback, panic and bite anything off me.”
G.G. had spoken in a teasing tone, but she didn’t think he was really joking. He was worried about how she would react during real sex. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised since she’d just told him she’d bit off Juan’s penis.
A sigh from G.G. drew her attention as he set his uneaten muffin back on the plate. Meeting her gaze then, he said, “I dated a mortal girl once who had been sexually abused as a child. I didn’t know and she didn’t tell me. We dated for several months and it was nice. We fooled around a lot, but never had sex. She always shied away before getting to that point, and I didn’t push it. I was fine waiting until she was ready. Then Valentine’s Day rolled around. I got her a card, flowers, and chocolates. She gave me a card, and inside were condoms. When I glanced at her with surprise, she nodded and whispered, ‘I want you to be my first.’
“I should have realized then that there were issues. We were both twenty-one. There aren’t a lot of beautiful, hot twenty-one-year-old virgins out there,” he said with a shake of the head. “Anyway, I didn’t jump her bones on the spot like I wanted. I’d booked a fancy restaurant for dinner. I took her there, wined and dined her, talked and laughed, but I noticed she was drinking a lot. I figured she was just nervous and looking for a little Dutch courage. But I didn’t want her first time to be a drunken blur, so even though I hadn’t planned it, I took her dancing. Once at the dance club I stopped buying alcohol, switching to water for both of us instead, telling her we had to stay hydrated. She didn’t protest and we danced like crazy for the next few hours. When I thought we’d worked off the worst of the alcohol, I took her back to her place.”
G.G. smiled with wry amusement. “I half expected her to be too exhausted from the dancing to go ahead with her plans, but when I asked if she was tired and wanted me to go, she took my hand and led me inside.”
He was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. It actually looked like he was blushing when he said, “I wanted her first time to be special for her, and so I really worked the foreplay. I gave her three orgasms before getting to the main event.” Pausing, he met her gaze and said, “I know it’s crass to kiss and tell, but I want you to understand that it wasn’t just a ‘rip her clothes off and stick it in’ deal. I did everything I could think to make it good for her. But when it came to the big moment— ” He blew his breath out slowly at the memory. “The minute I started to enter her, and I mean the very moment—hell, I wasn’t more than millimeters in and she just freaked; kicking, screaming, thrashing, scratching and punching me. And all the while she was screaming, ‘No, Daddy! Please don’t hurt me, Daddy!’”
Ildaria swallowed and sat back, her emotions a confused mix of pity, concern, fear, and anxiety.
“Well, my first reaction was to jump back and give her space, but that didn’t seem to help and the way she was thrashing around I was afraid she’d hurt herself, so I pulled my pants up quick and then I just pulled her into my arms, held her and rubbed her back soothingly. All the while, saying over and over, ‘It’s okay, it’s me. It’s G.G. You’re safe,’ until she calmed. She was as silent and still as a stone for a minute and then pulled back and looked at me with confusion. And it was real confusion.
“‘I don’t—What happened?’ she asked, and I really don’t think she knew what had set her off and why she’d panicked. When I told her what she’d been shouting, she just kind of closed down. Emotionally. She didn’t seem to believe it, and she couldn’t get me out of there quickly enough. I left, but as I dressed I tried to suggest as gently as I could that there might be something in her past that she needed to look at and maybe counseling would help. That I’d be there for her in whatever capacity she needed. She just kept nodding and waiting for me to leave.”
He took a drink of his water, and then said, “I was shocked to see myself when I got home. I looked like I’d been in a fight; black eye, fat lip, scratches and bruises down my cheek, neck, chest, and arms.” He turned his water glass on the island and said, “I wasn’t surprised when she called and broke it off with me the next day. I knew when I left that she wasn’t ready to deal with whatever had happened in her past.”
Releasing his glass, he shifted his glance to her. “It took weeks to heal from all the physical damage she did, and she was mortal. If you freaked like that, you could kill me,” he pointed out.
Ildaria wanted to protest that she’d never attack him, but the truth was she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t. She’d attacked three men on the pirate ship. Each man had attacked her first, but she could still remember her rage and determination to hurt those men in response. She couldn’t swear the same thing might not happen with G.G. at that most important moment, and that being the case, she said, “So, we’ll take it slow.”
G.G. nodded, but said, “And I’d like you to go to Marguerite’s son-in-law for counseling.”
Ildaria’s head jerked back under the emotional blow, but she managed to hold on to the temper that exploded inside her at the demand. Swallowing her anger, she merely said, “Fine. If you go to him for counseling too.”
Now it was G.G.’s turn to rock back in shock. “I don’t need counseling.”
“Really? So seeing your mother mid-turn didn’t affect you at all? Make you resistant to the turn?”
G.G. stared at her silently and then warned, “Counseling might not make a difference about that.”
Ildaria shrugged. “It might not make a difference for me either, but we can both give it a try, can’t we?”
After a short pause, G.G. nodded. “All right. We’ll both go for counseling.”
“All right.” Ildaria turned and plucked a muffin off the large plate, set it on her own smaller one, and picked up her knife to cut and butter it as if everything was fine. But she was already worrying about this counseling thing. She wasn’t used to talking to people about her past. In fact, G.G. was the first person she’d told it to, and she’d only done that because she’d felt he should know if they were life mates . . . and despite not knowing him long, she trusted him. Opening up to someone else . . . Yeah, this was going to be hard.
Nine
“Yo.”
Ildaria glanced up from the computer and smiled faintly as Sofia pushed the office door closed and crossed the room.
“Yo,” she greeted back. “What’s up?”
“That’s what I was wondering,” Sofia said dryly as she dropped into the chair in front of the desk. “What is going on? G.G. only stuck around for a few minutes tonight and then he left that new guy, Jarin, to man the door and went to take a nap.” She widened her eyes incredulously. “What the hell? I never thought I’d see the day. The man is always working.”
Ildaria shrugged mildly, but her mouth was twitching with amusement. “I guess he’s tired.”
“You think?” Sofia asked sarcastically, and then asked. “So what has him so tired? And what’s going on with you two? This last week he’s still exhausted, but in a much better mood. And where did you guys go today? I saw you pull up together in his pickup just before we opened. Where were you coming from? Why is he smiling all the time when he’s still exhausted and there’s been no Mimi yet? Or has there been Mimi and I’m just misreading things? Because what I’m getting from his head feels like shared dreams rather than the real deal.”
Ildaria stared at her with eyebrows arched for a moment, torn between annoyance at the intrusive questions, and an eagerness to spill her guts and tell Sofia about her and G.G. When Sofia simply waited, apparently impervious to the look she was receiving, Ildaria finally gave in to her urge to talk about the man. “We talked last week. The day you took me shopping
. Well, the morning after when he came to collect H.D.,” she corrected. “I told him that the dreams he’s having are shared dreams and that he’s a possible life mate. He agreed to be my life mate.”
“Yeah?” Sofia asked with a smile, and then smirked. “Yeah, you look and sound all stoic and calm on the surface about this, but your inner voice is doing the squealy girl thing.”
Ildaria sneered at the suggestion. “I don’t do squealy girl.”
“Oh, yeah, you do,” she said on a laugh. “You’re practically singing ‘Sweet Mystery of Life’ in your head.”
“I am not,” Ildaria denied quickly, but she and G.G. had watched Young Frankenstein the day before, and the song Madeline Kahn sang when Frankenstein made love to her had been running through her head ever since.
When Sofia just laughed at her, Ildaria scowled and turned her attention back to the spreadsheet on her computer.
The room was silent as she pretended to concentrate on work, but Ildaria was very aware of the woman seated across from her. She knew Sofia was trying to read her thoughts and tried to block her, but couldn’t think of anything to recite at the moment except “Sweet mystery of life at last I’ve found you.”
“Wow.”
Ildaria looked up sharply at the word to see Sofia frowning now.
“So, he’s agreed to be your life mate, but not to the turn and you aren’t having real sex either?” she almost whispered with dismay. “Oh, man, Angel.”
Flinching at the pity in her voice, Ildaria scowled. “Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry,” Sofia said unapologetically. “G.G. has started calling you that and it’s kind of stuck in my head.”
Ildaria didn’t comment. G.G. had started calling her Angel since agreeing to be her life mate. He said it was her real first name, and suited her better anyway. But when she’d instinctively protested at his using the short form of the first name she’d forsaken for safety’s sake centuries ago, he’d offered to pick a different endearment if she wanted and suggested a couple. But when faced with either Petal, Flower, or Angel, she’d said Angel was fine. She was in North America now, far from Juan Villaverde, and at least Angel was the short form of her real name. The other two endearments made her sound like some weak, delicate—
“And counseling,” Sofia murmured suddenly, and then blinked and said, “And you went bowling?”
Ildaria’s thoughts scattered and she scowled at her coworker sharply. “Will you stay out of my head?”
“Nope,” Sofia said without guilt. “I like G.G. I like you too. I’m rooting for you both, so I’m going to be all up in your business until you two sort things out. Now tell me how your first session with Marguerite’s son-in-law went, and explain why you went bowling of all things?”
“It’s called dating,” Ildaria snapped with irritation, answering the second part first. “We are dating. Getting to know each other.”
“Building trust,” Sofia said with a nod. “At Marguerite’s son-in-law’s suggestion.”
“His name is Greg,” Ildaria snapped. “Dr. Greg Hewitt.”
“Right. Dr. Greg,” Sofia said with disinterest. “So . . . how was your first date?”
“It wasn’t our first date. We went out for breakfast and then watched Young Frankenstein the afternoon before that,” Ildaria told her reluctantly.
“Ah, that’s where ‘Sweet Mystery of Life’ comes from,” Sofia said knowingly.
Ildaria rolled her eyes. “Is there a reason you came in here other than to annoy me?”
“No,” Sofia said with a grin. “Mostly I wanted to hear about the bowling thing because I picked up something weird from G.G.’s mind about his never having been kicked out of anyplace . . . before you.”
“We didn’t get kicked out,” Ildaria said at once, but felt her face heat up.
“Only because you controlled the bowling alley owner’s mind, calmed him down and made him let you stay,” Sofia argued.
Ildaria huffed irritably. Really this having her mind read all the time was becoming tiresome, she thought, but admitted, “Yeah, well, he thought we were deliberately breaking those white thingies.”
“You mean the pins?” Sofia asked, amusement claiming her expression.
“Whatever,” Ildaria said with a shrug, and then added, “He mistakenly thought G.G. was the one who had done it and was sure it was on purpose just because of his Mohawk. But it was me, and I didn’t do it on purpose.” She grimaced. “I just couldn’t seem to knock all the pins down at once like G.G. did, so thought if I hit them harder I might. But I used a little more strength than I meant to.”
Sofia was laughing now, and Ildaria found herself smiling at the memory of G.G.’s expression when the pins had exploded in all directions with her strike. It had been like a bomb going off. Pin pieces had spread over at least two lanes on either side of the one they were using. It had been quite the show. But they’d had fun. This whole last week had been fun. Ildaria had never dated before, so hadn’t realized what she’d been missing.
They’d started slow, grocery shopping together one day, and then washing their vehicles the next. Grocery shopping had been interesting in that it had shown her what G.G. liked when it came to food and such. As for washing the car, that had ended in a water fight that had left them both soaked and laughing. The day after that they’d taken H.D. to a dog park, and chatted as they walked along together. The next day had been Ildaria’s first appointment with Greg Hewitt, and G.G.’s had been the day after that. Those days they’d had breakfast together before the appointments and grabbed lunch after, but neither of them had talked about the appointments. Not that Ildaria had had much to talk about. All she’d done was give Dr. Greg a brief, emotionless rundown of her history and the reason she was there. By the time she’d finished, her time was up, but Greg had suggested dating and getting to know each other was good as he walked her out.
In truth, Ildaria wasn’t sure how this counseling business would go. Dr. Greg seemed nice enough, but . . . She supposed she just didn’t understand how talking about something she’d avoided even thinking about for a couple of centuries was going to help her. But she’d continue to go and see. She didn’t want to get intimate with G.G., have a freak-out, and hurt him. She hadn’t worried about that before he’d brought it up, and she hadn’t panicked so far in the dreams. But Ildaria could remember her reaction to Juan as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It had been so sudden and shocking. One minute she’d been weeping, confused, and frightened, and the next she’d been enraged and determined to hurt him. She was willing to go slow and get counseling to avoid something like that happening with G.G.
“Wow, Ildaria,” Sofia breathed. “Biting off an immortal’s dick? You are one fierce bitch. Even I wouldn’t have the balls to do that.”
“He deserved it,” Ildaria snarled.
“Yeah,” she agreed easily.
“And I didn’t know he was immortal at the time,” she pointed out. “I didn’t know about immortals at all.”
“No,” Sofia said, and then tilted her head. “So that’s how you got turned, huh?”
“Si.” She sighed the word.
Sofia nodded and then said, “Weird, huh?”
“What is?” Ildaria asked with uncertainty.
“Well, when you think about it, you were really kind of lucky that an immortal attacked you,” Sofia said slowly.
“What?” Ildaria gasped the word with disbelief.
“Well, you never would have become immortal if he hadn’t, and then you never would have met me or any of the other awesome peeps who work here,” she pointed out. “Not to mention G.G.” Standing now, Sofia headed for the door, saying, “Time for you to knock off and take H.D. upstairs. See you tomorrow.”
Ildaria stared after her blankly, her mind whirling. She would never be able to think of that attack as being even a “kind of lucky” event in her life. But as she considered Sofia’s words she realized that if Juan hadn’t attacked her, she never would h
ave been turned.
One hundred, fifty, or even ten years ago she might not have thought that was a bad thing. But now . . .
Ildaria glanced around the office and then down to where H.D. was curled up by her feet. She liked her life. She was not only studying, but working, in the field she wanted. She loved school, loved her apartment, loved her job, both jobs actually. She had G.G. who was kind and considerate and funny, and she had great friends like Jess in Montana, and Sofia and the others who worked here, not to mention Marguerite, who was quickly becoming more of a surrogate mother or aunt. The woman called twice a week to check on her, and had had her out to dinner at the house at least twice since she’d moved out.
True, her life wasn’t perfect. She was making good money, but tuition and books would eat up a lot of that when the fall semester started. And no doubt working the hours she did and attending full-time classes would be hard. Then too while G.G. had agreed to be her life mate, he hadn’t agreed to turn and they hadn’t consummated their relationship yet. But still, she liked her life. She was happy and hopeful and . . . and she liked herself too, Ildaria realized. All of her experiences had shown her that she was strong and smart and a good person who risked herself to help others . . .
In that moment Ildaria could see how the events in her life—even being molested at four, and being attacked at fourteen—had led to her being who and where she now was.
So . . . while she would never use the word lucky to describe the attack, she could at least accept that without it, she wouldn’t be who and where she was today.
The idea was new, and one it would take her a while to get used to, but she kind of liked it. She remembered hearing the saying once that every cloud had a silver lining. She’d snorted at it at the time, but Sofia had just helped her see the silver lining in the cloud that had hung over her life for ages. If she hadn’t been attacked, first by those soldiers from the bar, and then by Juan, she wouldn’t have everything she did today, and she had a lot.
