Broken Heart 01 I'm the Vampire, That's Why (10 page)

"Stop glaring at me," said Patrick.

Since I had refused to hold his hand, to accept his kiss, and to take his suggestion that we fly to the gymnasium, he was in a snit. Maybe he didn't like walking. It's not like he needed the exercise.

I, however, had gone way past "snit." I was monumentally pissed off.

"You've been buying out the town for months. When you said you meant to come to Broken Heart, you failed to mention that you had your minions already here, buying up property."

"I don't have minions." He looked at me. "How long are you going to stay angry?"

"Years." I pursed my lips. "Maybe a century."

His mouth twitched, but he apparently managed to quell the laugh that threatened. Instead he said,

"Fine."

And I said, "Fine."

Then we both shut up and let our silence chill the auto below zero.

After the meeting at my house had ended, I checked on my babies. Stan told me they weren't buying the flu story anymore. Three days was too long to go without seeing their mother, even with all the cool new distractions provided by Stan. If he kept up his gift giving, Santa Claus was gonna have a tough time coming up with appropriate gifts in December.

"If you hadn't called that ridiculous meeting to plan a mutiny—"

"It wasn't a mutiny," I interrupted. "I didn't get to plan anything with all those information bombs you dropped on us. Jerk."

"This is a strange situation for everyone. Vampires cannot have children and it's been centuries since a parent has been Turned."

"Let me guess. Part of the Consortium Code?"

He nodded.

"Lorcan totally blew that rule."

"He's not in his right mind. When he's cured, I guarantee you he'll say penance for centuries. He abhors the idea of hurting innocents."

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I stopped walking. "He's changed, Patrick. Maybe the werewolf blood cured the Taint, but he won't ever be the same."

Patrick stopped, too. Then he turned around slowly to face me. We were standing on the soccer field on the left side of the high school. The rich scents of earth and fresh-cut grass weaved through night air.

Summertime inOklahoma . I felt a pang of loss… of unbearable sadness. I was never going to see the sun again. Ever.

"No one knows better than I what my brother has suffered," he said. "You're hungry and you need to feed."

I was hungry. Since Patrick hadn't offered me a thigh, I was worried about where I was supposed to get my new icky sustenance. I didn't want to think about a "donor." I crossed my arms and gave Patrick the Look.

"You're being stubborn, Jessica." He scooped me into his arms and rose into the air, the show-off, and we flew over the roof of the gymnasium. He set us down in the back parking lot. I glanced at the area where Emily had been found. Poor sweet thing. Linda was planning a special night memorial for her little sis.

Patrick led me around the huge, white RV. We crossed the lot to a pink camper parked near a copse of pine trees.

"It looks like a big pink Twinkie," I said as Patrick knocked on the metal door.

The door opened and a brassy red head poked out. "It's a 1956 Safari Airstream, honey," said the woman in a sultry Southern twang. "It's been refurbished and customized to my specifications. Hello, Paddy. Here for a nibble?"

Patrick drew me forward and ushered me up the two metal stairs. The lady moved back into the Airstream and sat on a long couch that was made out of pink fuzzy material. A flatscreen TV was suspended on the opposite side. It looked like it could be raised or lowered into the ceiling.

"It's like walking into a room made of cotton candy," I said. Everything was pink. What wasn't pink was… well, no, everything was pink. Except me. Patrick. And the lady. But she
was
dressed in a pink muumuu.

"I like pink," said Red. She plucked a chocolate from a ceramic pink bowl and plopped it into her mouth.

"This isSharon ," said Patrick. "She's a donor."

"A donor." I smiled wanly. Then I turned around and headed for the door.

"Love," said Patrick gently, his arm shooting out to stop me. "You must learn to take blood from donors."

"Why do I need a donor?" I asked, knowing I sounded petulant. "I have you."

"I won't always be around."

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What? Why the hell not? The very idea that Patrick wouldn't be my… uh, whatever-he-was made anguish wrap around me.

He rolled his eyes. "I meant that I will sometimes be temporarily unavailable to you—not that I will leave you to pine for me forever."

"Your ego is the size ofMontana ," I said. "Pine for you? Not likely."

"She's just nervous, Paddy. Don't worry, hon," saidSharon , her lips pulled into a generous smile. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and sincerity. "I'm used to these neck nibblers."

"No offense,Sharon . But I'd rather have the chocolate," I said.

She laughed and slapped her thigh. "Hell's bells, Patrick! She's the reason you've had me eating these Godiva truffles all day?"

I looked at Patrick. "You're mean."

His black brows formed question marks. Then his lips curled into a smile.

"No, not just mean. Cruel."

"I had her eat truffles for you," he said.

"Are you insane? How is her eating
my
chocolate in any way helpful?"

Sharonchortled. "You might not be able to eat the truffle, sweetie, but you'll taste it. Prob'ly be the best chocolate you ever eat, too."

I looked atSharon , then at Patrick. "Are you telling me that she's gonna taste like chocolate?"

"Yes."

I crossed my arms. "Puh-lease. You liar. You're just trying to make me bite her and suck her blood."

"Jessica." Patrick managed to infuse my name with affection and impatience. "I'm not lying to you. But even if I was, if you want to continue to live, such as it is, you must learn to drink blood."

"She's been a vamp three days and hasn't had a donor yet?"Sharon studied me with narrowed eyes.

"She doesn't look starved."

"I've been sucking Patrick's thigh," I said. "And while you certainly look… uh, tasty, I
prefer
his thigh."

"Oh honey, I would, too," saidSharon , laughing. "But as far as I know, Patrick hasn't allowed any thigh sucking since—"

"
Sharon
." Patrick's expression was shuttered, but a muscle in his jaw ticked. Oh-ho. He was annoyed thatSharon had revealed this tidbit.

"Usually only mates take blood from the femoral artery," supplied the ever-helpfulSharon . "So, kiddies, when's the ceremony?"

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Patrick groaned and rubbed his face.

I sat down next toSharon , o-fount-of-information, and watched her chew on another truffle.

"Ceremony?"

She licked chocolate off her plump lips (bitch). "I guess the ceremony part isn't as important as the mating. You guys skipping it? Too bad. I love a good wedding."

"Wedding!" I jolted to my feet and poked Patrick in the chest. "What the holy hell is going on? We haven't even had
sex
yet and we're getting married?"

"Stan told me that you claimed Patrick," saidSharon .

I watched Patrick send another shut-up look to the redhead. She shrugged and ate another truffle.

The honeysuckle thing? Well, shit-a-brick. How was claiming Patrick different from claiming my kids? I swear to heaven, if somebody didn't give me Vampire 101 right now, I was going to remove dangly bits.

Starting with Patrick's. I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"Remember that I explained the three steps of a binding? Word-giving could be construed as… well, a wedding," said Patrick.

"Hmph," saidSharon . "Did you know that the numbers three and seven are sacred to vampires? There are seven vampire sects."

"Seven sacred sects," I repeated. "Say that three times fast."

"How about I spank you instead?" asked Patrick in a benign tone that belied the flare of irritation in his gaze.

"Only if you tie me to a bed and use a paddle."

His silver eyes went molten. Uh-oh. Me and my big smart-aleck mouth. "I… uh, sorry. I didn't mean that. I saw
Secretary
a few too many times. I'm impressionable."

He stared at me with that inscrutable gaze until heat swept my cheeks and my heart hammered. God knew what Patrick had experimented with during his really, really long life. I would've never thought it possible, but had sex gotten boring for him? What had he done to liven things up in the ol' bedroom? Did I want to know?

Yes. Yes, I did.

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Erotic tension weaved around us. Patrick's eyes were beautiful. I wanted to know what secrets lay in the silver depths, what sorrows he'd suffered, what joys he'd known. It was as if
he
were the chocolate I couldn't taste, the one thing on the whole planet I couldn't have… and had always craved. What the hell was wrong with me? I was mentally waxing poetic and I was getting really hungry. And not forSharon .

"Y'know," saidSharon . "I really don't want to witness step three. If y'all wanna come back later…"

"Please, Jessica. Take sustenance."

"I don't know how to do it," I whined.

He slipped past me and seated himself next toSharon . She looked from him to me then sighed. "Y'all got it bad, don't you?"

"Got
what
?" I challenged.

"Not my business now, is it?"Sharon closed her eyes then dropped her head back. "Hell's bells. Let's get this show on the road." Her red hair slid away, revealing a throat as pale as cream. Well, okay. I admit it: She had a nice neck. Her scent wafted to me. Cotton candy. Yeah, it figured she'd smell that way.

Seemed like every person I scented reminded me of food I could never eat again.

"It's instinctual, love. Every animal knows how to hunt, how to feed. You do, too. With donors, the best way to drink is when they're sitting, that way they're supported. If you have to do it standing, you hold tight to their shoulders, but not too tight. You can hurt them without meaning to because you're very strong. Every human reacts differently to blood-taking, but for the most part, they get woozy."

"Like when you go to the Red Cross to donate blood."

"Exactly."

"So after I drink my fill, do I offerSharon some Kool-Aid and a chocolate-chip cookie?"

Patrick laughed and his lips quirked into a sexy smile. "Donors know how to recover. If you have to take from a non-donor, make sure you take only what you need, that your victim is in a safe place, and that you do a memory-wipe."

"How do you do a memory-wipe?"

"You look into the human's eyes. Once you have his attention, you tell him that he won't remember you.

That he wasn't feeling well and decided to sit down. It's sorta like instant hypnotism."

I considered his words. "Huh. I guess I'll have to practice."

"You'll do fine, love." He opened his mouth and I watched, fascinated, as his fangs emerged. My own fangs extended as a rush of… I could only call it lust… washed over me.