Vampire Mine

Chapter Ten

Marielle’s plan wasn’t working out.

Connor teleported to Romatech with Robby to discuss strategy with Angus and Emma MacKay. Before leaving, he explained that Angus had served as the general of the Vamp army, and now, he and his wife were head of MacKay Security and Investigation, the modern-day company that fought against Casimir and his Malcontents.

“I canna guard you when the sun is up,” Connor told her.

“You won’t be here?” she asked, bewildered by how disappointed she was. How quickly she’d learned to depend on him. But there was no depending on him when he would be dead in about two hours.

“What about the demon?” Father Andrew asked before Connor could respond to her question. “Would he come here during the day?”

“It’s possible,” she murmured. Somehow, the thought of Connor actually being dead during the day was more disturbing than the possibility of seeing Darafer again. No wonder Connor seemed enveloped in sadness. She couldn’t imagine never watching a sunrise or catching sight of a rainbow.

“I’ll find someone to guard you,” Connor said, then vanished.

She missed him immediately.

Father Andrew busied himself in the kitchen, making them each a cup of tea. It tasted all right, but not nearly as good as the chocolate Connor had given her. The priest had many questions, but Gregori soon declared she needed a break, and he knew exactly what would cheer her up.

It was called disco dancing. And it did make her laugh. Father Andrew watched them, smiling, but eventually, slumped over on the couch fast asleep.

“Poor guy.” Gregori turned the volume down on the CD player. “It’s gotta be way past his bedtime.”

Soon afterward, three forms wavered, then solidified.

“Hello, ladies.” Gregori greeted them with a charming smile. “May I present our resident angel, Marielle?”

They all stared at her as if stunned.

She smiled a welcome, even though she felt a stab of disappointment that Connor hadn’t returned. The three women looked interesting, though. One had purple spiky hair and was dressed in a clingy black outfit with high-heeled black boots and a black whip around her waist. She was holding on to another woman who wore blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. Her thick, long hair was a beautiful mixture of brown, gold, and red. As soon as she materialized, she stepped away from the woman with purple hair.

The third woman looked very young, although her ability to teleport indicated she was a vampire and could be any age. She had brown hair, severely pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore blue jeans and a plain cream-colored sweater. Her arms were filled with tote bags.

“Vanda, good to see you.” Gregori grinned as he gave the purple-haired woman a hug. “I see married life hasn’t crimped your style. Hey, Marta, how ya doin’?”

The young vampire smiled shyly in his direction as she headed into the kitchen. “I’m fine.” She set her tote bags down on the counter. “We brought some things for the . . .” Her gaze darted nervously back to Marielle.

“God bless you.” Marielle smiled, and Marta’s face reddened before she turned away.

“So you’re an angel?” The woman in cowboy boots asked as she hooked her thumbs into her belt loops.

“Have we met?” Gregori asked. “You look familiar.”

The woman gave him an impatient look. “We might have. I fought in the battle at South Dakota, but I was in wolf form for most of that.”

Marielle stiffened. The woman was a werewolf? She had nothing against shifters, but the wolf form tended to make her uneasy since it was a guise so many demons enjoyed adopting.

“This is Brynley,” Vanda introduced her. “Phil’s twin sister.” She glanced at Marielle and clarified, “Phil is my husband. And Marta over there is my sister.”

“I see.” Marielle tried not to look confused. Vampire sisters? And one of them was married to a werewolf? And had purple hair?

“Delighted to meet you.” Gregori smiled as he approached Brynley. “Phil and I are good friends.”

“Oh yeah?” Brynley cast a wry look at Vanda. “Well, he has weird taste.”

Vanda snorted. “I think she’s including you in that insult, Gregori.”

“Surely not.” Gregori pressed a hand to his chest, affecting an injured look. “I’m one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.”

Brynley looked unimpressed.

“Well dressed, too.” Gregori adjusted his cuff links.

Brynley arched an eyebrow. “Can you bring down an elk in sixty seconds?” When Gregori hesitated, she shrugged. “I didn’t think so.” She turned to Marielle and regarded her curiously. “Are you really an angel of death? You don’t look very scary to me.”

“She could bring you down in sixty seconds,” Gregori muttered.

Brynley paled a bit, but lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid.”

Marielle could tell that the female werewolf wasn’t as tough as she pretended. “Did you volunteer to guard me during the day?”

Brynley shrugged. “Someone had to do it. The Vamps are completely useless in daytime, and the mortal women were too nervous. I figured why not? It’s not every day you get to meet a real, live angel.”

“I appreciate your bravery,” Marielle said. “And I can assure you that I mean no harm.”

Brynley nodded. “That’s good to know.”

Vanda gave her sister-in-law a fond look. “Brynley came to live with us about a week ago. Phil and I are delighted.”

Brynley looked embarrassed. “Well, I got sick and tired of my dad telling me what to do. He had the gall to throw me a big birthday party and announce my surprise engagement in front of a hundred pack members.”

“You’re getting married?” Marta asked as she unloaded the tote bags in the kitchen.

“No,” Brynley snapped. “I’d never even met the guy before. Some Alpha wolf from Alaska. Anyway, I packed my bags and left. I knew Phil would welcome me at his school.”

“We all welcomed you,” Vanda said quietly.

“You’re from a school?” Marielle asked.

“Dragon Nest Academy,” Vanda explained. “I teach art there. Brynley’s planning to teach En-glish, and Marta works in the office.” She ran a hand through her purple spiky hair. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad to get away for a little while.”

“Me, too,” Marta mumbled from the kitchen.

“Why?” Gregori asked. “What’s wrong?”

Vanda snorted. “Ten teenage werewolf boys all learning to become Alpha? We’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other.”

Brynley winced. “There’s a reason why a pack only has one Alpha.”

“And then you throw in five were-panther orphans, plus the new were-tiger from Thailand—” Vanda shook her head. “Cats and dogs do not mix well.”

“We need more girls there.” Marta set a plate of food in the microwave. “The werewolf boys keep trying to hit on me.”

Brynley laughed. “Well, you do look about fourteen.”

With a groan, Marta punched some buttons. “I was fifteen when I was transformed, but that was back in 1939.”

“So it is a school for shifter children?” Marielle asked.

Vanda nodded. “We have some mortal kids, too, who know too much to go to a regular school. And then there are the hybrids—half mortal, half vampire.”

“Roman figured out a way for the Vamp guys to father children,” Gregori explained. “He and Shanna have two.”

The woman she’d almost killed had children? Marielle sent up a prayer that Shanna would pull through. Silence. Her shoulders slumped.

“So I gather Connor caught you up to speed?” Gregori asked Vanda.

“Yes. He seemed really . . . concerned.” She eyed Marielle curiously. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Connor thought you might be hungry,” Marta said as she removed the plate from the microwave. “We brought some food from the cafeteria.”

“And we brought other stuff, too,” Vanda added. “Shampoo and lotion and all sorts of girly things. Connor said you’d never had a body before, so you might need a little female . . . advice.”

“Sounds like time for me to leave,” Gregori muttered. He walked over to the couch and gathered the priest up in his arms.

“Thank you for coming, Gregori.” Marielle inclined her head.

Gregori grinned. “See you later, angel.” He disappeared, taking Father Andrew with him.

“Well, come and eat while it’s still hot.” Marta set a bowl and plate at the end of the table.

“She needs silverware.” Vanda hurried into the kitchen.

Marielle walked slowly to the table, then sat in the chair that Marta indicated. A real human meal. The smell drifted up to her nose, spicy and enticing. Hunger grew in her belly, but a small fear accompanied it. What if she enjoyed being human too much? She’d certainly enjoyed feeling Connor’s arms around her and his lips against hers.

“This is salad.” Marta motioned to the bowl, then to the plate. “And that’s lasagna and a breadstick.”

It all looked so foreign. And colorful. Marielle didn’t know where to begin.

“And here’s your knife and fork.” Vanda set some utensils on the table along with a smaller plate. “And that’s your dessert. Chocolate cake.”

Marielle sat up. Chocolate? She took the fork and poked at the cake.

“Oh no,” Marta whispered. “You’re supposed to eat the cake last.”

“Why?” Marielle put a bite of cake in her mouth.

Brynley laughed as she took a seat at the opposite end of the table. “I’ve always wondered that myself.”

Vanda set a glass of water and a napkin on the table. “After all you’ve been through tonight, I’d say to hell with the rules.”

Marielle nodded as the chocolate melted in her mouth. So delicious. “I’m not good at following orders.”

Brynley sighed. “I’m going through a rebellious period myself right now.”

“You don’t want to get married?” Marta brought two bottles of synthetic blood to the table and handed one to her sister. She and Vanda sat in the side chairs.

“I could live for hundreds of years.” Brynley slouched in her chair. “Why would I want to chain myself to one person?”

“Your brother did.” Marta sipped from her bottle.

Brynley shrugged. “Phil’s in love.” She gave Vanda an annoyed look, then grumbled, “But he seems to be happy.”

Vanda smiled. “He is.” She took a drink from her bottle.

Marielle continued to eat the cake while she watched the women.

“You might change your mind about marriage when you meet the right man,” Marta suggested.

Brynley scoffed. “No such thing as the right man. They’re all alike. Mortals or shifters—they’re all interested in the same thing.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Not that I have anything against sex. I really like sex. A lot.”

Marta winced and glanced at Marielle. “I don’t know if that’s an appropriate topic.”

“Please don’t feel that you have to censor yourself on my account.” Marielle took another bite of cake.

“Exactly. If we’re supposed to give her advice on being a woman, then she needs to know about men.” Brynley jumped up and headed into the kitchen. “Is there any more of that cake?”

Vanda looked at Marielle curiously. “What do you think? Are all men alike?”

“No. I believe each human is unique.” A vision of Connor drifted across her mind.

“I’ll admit that they can look and act a little differently,” Brynley called from the kitchen. “But they still have only one thing on their mind.”

Marta shook her head. “Not all the time.”

Brynley walked back to the table, a plate of cake in one hand and a fork in the other. “You haven’t heard of the Three-Step Rule?”

“The what?” Marta asked.

Brynley set her plate on the table and took a seat. “This is how it works. At any given time, sex is only three steps away in a man’s thoughts.”

Vanda grinned. “All the time? What if I ask Phil to take out the garbage?”

Brynley counted the steps off on her fingers. “One: sure, I’ll take out the garbage for her. Two: what could she do for me? Three: blow job.”

Vanda burst out laughing while Marta turned pink and gave Marielle an apologetic look. “It’s not funny,” she hissed at her sister.

Vanda covered her mouth to hide her grin. “It’s just that two nights ago I asked Phil to take out the garbage and then afterward—”

“Don’t want to hear it.” Brynley lifted her hands to stop Vanda.

“Certainly not.” Marta took a sip from her bottle.

“What’s a blow job?” Marielle asked.

Marta choked.

Vanda and Brynley laughed, then looked at each other.

“Are you going to tell her?” Brynley asked.

“You tell her,” Vanda muttered. “You brought it up.”

Brynley stabbed at her cake. “It’s oral sex, somebody’s mouth on somebody’s private parts.” She stuffed a big bite into her mouth.

“So it’s similar to kissing?” Marielle asked.

“Mmm.” Brynley nodded with her mouth full. She pointed down with her fork. “But farther down.”

Marielle recalled the image of Connor flat on his back with his kilt thrown up to his chest. Her cheeks grew warm as the full meaning became clear.

“No offense, Brynley, but I’m not convinced about your Three-Step Rule,” Marta announced. “There are times, dangerous times, when men have to think about more important things than sex.”

Marielle nodded. That made sense to her. She’d been in the company of men tonight, and they hadn’t discussed sex.

“I have to agree,” Vanda said. “I’ve been around Vamps for years, and if the guys were always thinking about sex, then their eyes would be glowing all the time.”

“Vampire eyes glow?” Brynley asked.

Marielle stiffened, and her heart began to race.

“Yes,” Vanda replied. “You can always tell when a Vamp’s in the mood for sex. Our eyes glow red.”

The fork tumbled from Marielle’s hand.

“Are you all right?” Marta asked.

“Yes.” She quickly picked up the fork. “It’s just that this is all new to me.” Connor had wanted to have sex with her? Three times? Her cheeks blazed with heat.

“No need to feel embarrassed,” Marta assured her. “You’ll get used to being human.”

“I—I think I’m full.” She set the fork down.

Marta wrapped up the food and stashed it in the fridge while Vanda bustled Marielle into the bathroom and showed her all the products they’d brought. After Marielle was done, Vanda helped her into a blue silk nightgown.

“Any questions?” Vanda asked, sitting on the bed next to Marielle.

“I don’t think so.” She combed her damp hair, enjoying the flowery scent of the shampoo she’d used. The silk material felt good against her skin. “I must seem like a helpless child.”

Vanda smiled. “You don’t look like a child. You’re really beautiful, you know. I’m sure the men noticed.”

Her cheeks warmed, thinking about Connor. When was she going to see him again?

Vanda patted her on the shoulder, then stood. “It’s almost sunrise. My sister and I need to go. But we’ll come back tomorrow night, if you like.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Marielle followed Vanda back into the main room to say good-bye to Marta.

The two Vamp women disappeared.

Brynley lifted a shotgun off the gun rack on the wall. “I’ll just get this ready in case we need it.”

Marielle nodded, though she wasn’t sure how well the human weapon would work on a demon.

A form materialized in the kitchen, and Marielle’s heart lurched when she realized it was Connor.

She grinned. “You’re back!”

His eyes widened as he looked her over. She noticed he’d changed into a clean kilt and shirt. His hair was damp and tied back neatly. In his arms, he carried three sheathed swords.

“Hello!” Brynley called from the kitchen table where she was loading the shotgun. “You must be Connor.”

“Aye. Ye must be Brynley, Phil’s sister.” He inclined his head. “Thank you for coming.”

“Not a problem,” Brynley said. “You came well armed.”

“Aye.” He set two of the swords on the kitchen counter, but kept one. “Feel free to use these, if ye need to.” He gave Marielle a worried look. “The sun is about to rise. I doona have time to teach you tonight.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I still have some of my own skills.”

“Aye. Ye knocked me out twice with that blast of air.”

She tried not to think about how she’d discovered him flat on his back with his kilt up. Don’t think about it.

He opened the door to a walk-in closet, then went inside and placed the third sword on the floor. He took a blanket off the shelf and spread it beside the sword.

She peered inside. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll be falling into my death-sleep soon.”

“I . . . don’t like thinking about you being dead.”

His mouth twisted. “Usually, I welcome it.”

“How can you say that?”

He shrugged. “Ye canna feel anything when ye’re dead.” He gave her a worried look. “Tonight I hate it. I hate no’ being here for you, no’ knowing if ye’ll be all right.”

“I’ll be fine.” She glanced at the floor. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the bed?”

“The bedroom has windows. The sunlight would fry me.” He tilted his head, studying her. “You should use the bed. It has been a long night. Ye must be verra tired.”

She nodded. She was beginning to feel weary. And sad.

“Ye need to go now, lass,” he whispered. “I’m about to keel over.”

She stepped back, then froze when he touched her cheek.

“Be safe.”

She smiled slightly. “You, too.” She shut the door. Why did she feel like crying?

Instead of going into the bedroom, she went out the front door and stood on the porch. The sun broke the horizon in the east, shooting glorious rays through the trees and painting the sky with gold and pink.

“ ‘The way of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn,’ ” she whispered. Her vision blurred with tears, and she blinked them away. She’d always loved sunrises in the past. But now, she could only think of Connor dying in the closet.

A few hours later, she could barely keep her eyes open. Brynley encouraged her to go to bed and get some sleep.

As she brought the sheet up to her chin, she thought of Connor in the closet. Still dead. Her eyes flickered shut.

A moment of panic flared when she felt a dragging sensation on her consciousness. She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. She’d never slept before. She’d always rested on the Seventh Day, but she’d never slipped away into a real sleep. It was an odd sensation, so peaceful and comforting, yet terrifying as all her control withered away.

Her eyes burned as she tried to keep them open, but in the end, weariness overcame her, and she drifted into sleep.

She awoke with a jerk, then smiled slowly as she realized how refreshed she felt. After using the bathroom, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, grateful that Vanda had shown her how. Then she dressed and went into the main room.

Glorious scents filled the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled.

“There you are.” Brynley backed away to keep a safe distance. She motioned to the counter. “I made some bacon and eggs. And there’s toast and jelly.”

“Thank you.” She prepared herself a plate. “Did anything happen while I was asleep?”

“Nope.” Brynley settled on the couch with a paperback book. “It’s been real quiet. The sun’s already going down.”

Marielle smiled at the thought of seeing Connor soon and starting her new mission to help the Vamps. After eating, she went out onto the front porch to watch the sun descending in the west.

A new adventure awaited her. She would help the Vamps destroy the Malcontents. The world would be a safer place. The Archangels would be so pleased, they would vote her back into the Heavenly Host.

She strode back into the cabin and headed for the closet.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Brynley asked from the couch.

“I’ll be fine.” She let herself into the closet, turned on the light, then closed the door.

Connor was stretched out on his back with his hands resting on his flat stomach. She knelt beside him, admiring his handsome face. Even though his hair was a bright golden red, his eyebrows were a reddish brown. His eyelashes looked thick and dark against his pale skin. He must have shaved, for the stubble along his chin was gone.

He wore a dark green shirt that hugged broad shoulders and went well with his red and green plaid kilt. Even his knee socks were green. She smiled at the dagger hidden beneath his right knee sock. He’d tried to take on a demon with that weapon.

His chest suddenly expanded as if a burst of energy had struck his heart. His hands jerked, and his eyes opened.

“Good morning.” She grinned. “Or rather, evening. It’s confusing—agh!” She gasped when he seized her by the arms and shoved her onto the floor.

“Connor, what are you—” She gasped again when he leaned over her, his eyes glowing red. Good heavens! He’d been awake for only two seconds. Was he already thinking about sex?

His hand slid up to her neck. “Lass, ye should never wake a sleeping vampire.”

“You woke yourself.” She shoved at his chest. “And I don’t care about the Three-Step Rule. I’m not giving you a blow job.”