Broken Heart 01 I'm the Vampire, That's Why (31 page)

I looked at Patrick. "What the hell just happened?"

"Narais in a place that exists between this world and the Otherworld," he said. "She will never bother you, or me, or any that are under our protection. And she will stay there for as long as she feels hatred and vengeance toward me and mine."

"She's gone? Just like that?"

"Banning is not done easily or taken lightly."

Patrick returned to where I stood and with one arm, gathered me into an embrace. He held away the knives, but over his shoulder, I could see the gleam of the blades still red with my blood.

"Wait." Patrick held out the swords. The blood sparkled away. Then the swords disappeared like Scotty had beamed them up to the circlingEnterprise . Impressive and unnerving that he could do stuff

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like that.

"I'm sorry she hurt you," Patrick whispered into my hair as his arms wrapped around me.

"Those little scratches? Puh-lease! I've had hangnails that were worse." I slid my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. I couldn't help a little squeeze. He had a great ass.

"Hungry?"

"Starved."

Patrick drew me into his embrace and gently pressed me against his throat. "Go on, love."

Before I could offer protest, my fangs pierced his flesh almost of their own accord. Yeah, I wanted some nosh, but I loved biting Patrick. I found something erotic about drinking from him, about regenerating because of him. I wish we could do other kinds of piercing.

"Enough," he murmured.

I licked his neck. He shuddered at my touch, his hands drifting up my arms. I heard his thought:
Oh,
Jessica. What you do to me, love
.

For a moment, I couldn't remember why I couldn't bind with him. Why I was denying myself his presence, his love. Images of Bryan and Jenny snapped into my mind—instant reminders of my present… and my future.

"I really want a shower," I said. His grasp tightened on my shoulders. I knew he was thinking about the last time we'd been together—in that lovely tub with its gurgling waterfall. "Alone," I clarified.

"Damnú air."

"You're cussing!"

"I refuse to admit to uttering bad words in any language." Patrick grinned and his teeth flashed white.

"Jenny has been Googling German insults. I don't want her to look up Gaelic next."

Oh Lord. I tried not to think about what kind of information Jenny discovered in her search. "You let her Google curse words?"

"She said it was for educational purposes."

"Yeah, right. You are so fired as the baby-sitter."

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Patrick escorted me home, kissed me until my toes curled, then left to go check on his brother. I was thrilled that Lor was okay and that he was back to normal. Well, normal for a blood-drinking dead guy.

Jenny was ensconced in the living room watching a Bratz movie with her Bratz dolls. Those things creeped me out, especially how their feet were changed out. Their
feet
. If they didn't have shoes on, they had these little knobs at the end of their legs.
Ick, ick, ptooey
.

The blast of music that greeted my vamp ears indicated my son was in his bedroom. My guess was that he had a Pepsi in one hand and a PS2 controller in the other.

I took a quick shower and got dressed in the usual summer attire, threatened to removeBryan 's stereo if he didn't turn down the music, and made it downstairs in time to watch Jenny lure Stan into the evil world of Bratz.

"You switch out their
feet
?" he asked in a horrified voice as he accepted one of the dolls.

Good God. I snuck outside lest I, too, was drawn into the terrors that awaited poor Stan.

"The minute she pulled out those dolls, I ran," said Linda. She sat on the porch swing, gently rocking.

She looked like Valentine's Day candy with her pink pants and purple crop top. Her poofy red hairdo clashed, but at the same time, well, it was full-on Linda.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just another day in the exciting life of a vampire housewife."

"Where's your Irish cutie?"

"With Lor." I joined Linda on the swing and for long, sweet moments we sat side by side and swayed.

"Remember when we used sit on your porch in the mornings with coffee, gossiping and eating those cookies from Betty's Bake Shop?" Linda laughed. "Now, here we are, dead as a doornail, swinging in the dark without caffeine or sweets to tide us over.. Seems a shame we can't have a damned carb now and then."

"It's like being put on a permanent diet of tomato juice," I agreed. "I still miss Betty's gingerbread roll.

Too bad she wouldn't leave the recipe when she closed up shop and moved toFlorida ."

For a moment, the air seemed weighted with our grievances. Or maybe it was just the humidity.

"I guess we could sit all night and list the things we'll miss," said Linda. "But I don't want to jaw about what's gone."

Her tone had gone soft, wary. I felt tension emanate from her. I said nothing, waiting for her to talk. A light wind rustled the leaves of the weeping willow in my front yard. And as always, the gorgeous scent of honeysuckle filtered in with the welcome breeze.

"You know that binding thing?" Linda asked. "If you have sex and share blood and magic… well, you're hitched for a hundred years."

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"Yeah," I said. "I know. And I'm trying to avoid that particular state with Patrick." I looked at her profile and saw that she was gnawing on her bottom lip. "What are you saying, Linda? Are you binding with someone?"

"Ivan," she admitted.

Shock chilled me to the bone. I couldn't speak for a full minute. Then I said, "
What
?"

"Lookie here, girl, I know you don't like him. And he sure don't like you. And I'm sorry for that, but he's really just a big ol' teddy bear. And… he wants me."

"Okay. Well… okay. Do you want him?"

"Of course I want him!" Linda fluffed her hair then tapped her nails against her neon-pink capris. Her anger was palpable, but I wasn't sure if she was mad at me or the world. "Ivan's rich. He's an older vamp, too, so he's got some status, some power. And he'll claim Marybeth and protect us both forever.

A hundred years seems a long time to me, but it's really just a blink of the eye for vampires."

I mentally chewed on her words, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't piss her off. But hell, everything I wanted to say would spin her into anger, so I figured I should say what I meant. "I hear you, Linda. I hear you talk about money and status and protection."

"I never had your kind of life," said Linda. "You had a man with a steady job. He made a good wage and kept you in a pretty house. Bought you a car. Paid for your kids' summer camps and karate and ballet lessons."

"Every rose has thorns," I said. I had forgiven Rich. It seemed wrong to keep bellyaching about his mistakes. While the truth was that he'd slept with Charlene and gotten her pregnant, that shouldn't be his defining moment in our lives. I didn't hate him anymore. And because I didn't, I was free.

"Rich screwed up at the end. But for nearly sixteen years, he stood with you. That's saying something."

Her long nails drummed the wood seat. "I worked all kinds of shitty jobs because I don't have skills or smarts. I ended up as Patsy's nail girl because I got steady hands and an extensive collection of polish.

Now, I got a chance to live like a queen. Why shouldn't I?"

From Linda's perspective, I supposed that Ivan seemed like an ice cream cone on a hot, summer day.

But, still, it didn't seem right, this union between my friend and that big-mouthed crazy Russian.

"What about love?" I asked.

"What about love?" Linda bristled. "I loved Earl and he was a cheating piece of shit. You loved Rich and same goes. Think about it, Jessie. Think about being with a man who will always be faithful and who will always protect you." She looked at me, a fever in her gaze, a brightness that reflected manic hope. It scared me, that look. "You love Patrick. And you're not binding with him," she pointed out, as if my decision not to bind for love justified her decision to bind for security.

"It's more complicated," I said. "He wants more of a soul mate forever thing. Besides, I don't think it's fair to him, me having kids and all."

"Jessie, honey, that doesn't make any sense."

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"When Patrick was human, he had a family. But his wife and children were murdered—the same night he was Turned."

"Oh. Oh, honey. That's terrible." Linda patted my shoulder and I accepted the comfort, even though it was really Patrick who warranted the empathy. "Tell me, Jess. How do you feel about losing Jenny and Bryan?"

"Like my soul would be ripped out. That my life would be empty and hollow and meaningless."

Linda nodded. "Sure enough. Patrick's managed to live a thousand lifetimes feeling the same way. Seems to me that you're the one scared. And you're using Jenny and Bryan to push away Patrick. He needs time is all. So do you. Both of you've got enough baggage to put Paris Hilton to shame."

"Ha ha." Was Linda right? Was I protecting my kids? Or using them as the buffer from making a decision that scared the hell out of me?

"You should ask 'em."

"Ask Patrick? Ask him what?"

"Not Patrick. Your kids. Sit 'em down and lay it out. Get their feelings about what's going on."

"They don't get to decide who I date," I said.

"Yes, they do. If you're using 'em as an excuse to not be with Patrick, then they are deciding who you date."

"Quit making sense," I groused. I launched the swing a little harder than necessary and Linda's head snapped back. She glanced at me with a little grin. And I grinned sheepishly back.

"Tell you what. I'll think about what you said. But… oh Linda, I don't know about Ivan," I said, hoping she had softened enough to really listen to me.

"Don't start, Jessie. Like I said, he's got treasures stashed all over the world and a palace inRussia ."

"La-de-freaking-da!"

Linda stood up, so agitated that she started pacing the length of the porch. "Ivan's my Master. I may not love him, but he's better than Earl."

"Oh Linda! Every man is better than Earl."

"Shut your mouth. He's still Marybeth's daddy."

I jumped off the swing and turned to face Linda. "I'm not the one who shot at Marybeth's
daddy
with a

.38 Special!"

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me. The fury in her eyes died, replaced by merriment. She cackled and slapped her thigh. "I sure as shit did and I'd do it again. Damned near winged him."

I laughed with her. "Yeah. That was some shooting, Calamity Jane." I leaned against the porch railing,
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