Broken Heart 02 Don't Talk Back to Your Vampire (17 page)

"I don't have a degree. Not even a GED. I'm not qualified."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Who gives a shit about that? You're smart, you're enthusiastic, and you're a vampire. We won't have to bring in anyone from outside or try to glamour some poor human.

You already do the Shakespeare Club for the teens, and you created that story program just for Ralph's twins. Plus, you know what a freaking centurion is and you say Latin words like they're fun. Let's not forget that I caught you reading the dictionary.
Nobody
reads the dictionary."

"Lor does," interjected Patrick.

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"Okay, nobody except Eva and Lor read the dictionary."

"Jessica, I'm really not qualified." I couldn't believe how badly I suddenly wanted the job. Teaching the kids of Broken Heart would be nearly as wonderful as discovering Shakespeare's lost plays. I could create different curriculums—one for high school, one for elementary, one for preschool. We could do grade ranges instead of forcing the kids into specific grades. I swallowed the sigh. I hadn't known I could want something more than what I already had. My life was full of blessings.
Still
…

Looking at the patchwork quilt that covered me, I shook my head.

"Aw, c'mon," said Jessica. "We need you. Hey! How about I take this up with the Consortium? I'll talk ol' Ivan into it. Would you go for it then?"

A little flame of hope flickered. "If the Consortium agrees to it, Jess, then, yeah—I'd love to do it."

"Sweet! Okay, babe, we gotta go figure out what's stinking up our house," said Jess cheerfully. "The third floor reeks like a dead guy's bad breath." She fluttered her eyelashes at Patrick. "No offense, honey."

"Hmm. I suppose a breath check is in order," he said. The look he shot her left no doubt that tongue and lips would be involved with the process. "Why don't we reconnoiter upstairs and begin the procedure?"

Grinning, Jess waved good-bye to me and left. Patrick took a seat near the bed.

"She's trying to make me feel better," I said. "But we've got problems, don't we?"

"Yes, Eva." He sighed. "Through our network of informants, we've found that the Wraiths are disbanded. No one has seen Ron in weeks."

"The hybrids didn't just show up. Someone led them here."

He nodded. "The experiments done on tainted vampires and captured lycans now are very much the same as those done during World War Two."

"You're saying it's no coincidence Nefertiti has revealed herself." Realization dawned and fear chilled me.

"Her reinforcements have arrived."

"And they are quite good at avoiding detection. Other than the three lycans chasing you, one of them Faustus, there are no signs of outsiders." Patrick leaned forward and patted my hand. "If there is a war coming, you will be very much in demand."

"Just because I can talk to them and hear their thoughts doesn't mean I'll be of any use. I can't control them."

"Have you tried?"

I shook my head. I was reminded of my dream where the wolf cowered at my command. I looked at Patrick and saw the speculation in his eyes. "You think I can."

"For some reason the powers of Turn-bloods bitten by Lorcan are increasing exponentially. Jessica is quite good with her swords and with flight. She is also able, with some limitations, to appear and
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reappear. Usually it takes centuries to progress that far."

"I can see why I would be of interest." Damian and Johnny could use me to control Nefertiti. The Consortium could use me to hear the thoughts of the lycanthropes and Roma, maybe even to control unruly prisoners. And the bad guys could use me to control their experiments.

Nausea roiled and I pressed my hand against my stomach. Oh, God. I
was
in trouble.

"I know it's a lot to grasp," soothed Patrick. "Take a moment, if you need it. Your daughter is waiting to see you."

He rose from the chair; his smile was reassuring.

I sat up slowly and felt somewhat normal. The door popped open and there was Tamara.

"Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey. Your lips are doing something weird," I said. "Are you aware they're curling up at the corners?"

"Ha, ha. I can smile, y'know."

Since when
? Had I worried her so much that she was trying to be nice? I preferred my darling sarcast (one who uses sarcasm) to this…
this… "Jollier
."

"Ah, better a jollier than a persifleur." She chuckled. "Nice one, Mom. Ten points for you." She sat next to me and patted my leg. "You gonna live, so to speak?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"Think so."

A knock sounded. My daughter skittered off the bed, hurried to the door, and flung it open.

Durriken waited on the other side. He bowed to me, but his gaze never strayed from Tamara. "Hello, Miss LeRoy. Are you well?"

"Yes. Thanks."

Oh, crap. Apparently, my teenage daughter had met her hero. I felt a little deflated that her smile and emotional buoyancy weren't the result of seeing that I was okay. Tamara had never shown much interest in boys or in dating. Her sixteenth birthday was two months away. I suppose I hadn't thought much about her hanging out with people her own age, since she so rarely showed interest in doing so.

When Durriken offered his arm to her as if he were about to escort a princess to the ball, my daughter wrapped her arm around his and walked to my bedside. I tried to handle this turn of events with aplomb, but I felt kinda jealous. Even though I'd had every intention of introducing Durriken to Tamara, I hadn't thought they'd become peas in a pod.

"When did you two meet?" I asked.

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"Last night," said Tamara. "He and his parents brought you to the hospital and he came to check on me."

"Wow. That's great." I tried to infuse enthusiasm in my voice, but I failed miserably. Tamara looked at me with raised brows. I didn't want to embarrass her or myself by turning into a suspicious, lecturing mother. "So, what're you doing now?"

"We're going to explore the house. This place is huge." She grinned at Durriken and he looked flummoxed. He grinned back at her. Gak! They were already in the moon-eyed stage.

"Be careful. Avoid dark, small places, and check in. Often. Don't… uh, do anything silly. Because I'm sure Jess has this place decked out with video cameras. Lots of them."

"Whatever you say, Mom."

Tamara and I had talked about the birds and the bees many times. Granted, my mother had done the same for me, and it hadn't stopped me from losing my virginity and getting pregnant.

However, I didn't think Tamara would run off and do anything sexual (gasp, blech, aah!) with Durriken.

And his mother seemed the type to hack off genitalia if she thought 'em used inappropriately. All the same, I felt worried.

"Your daughter will be safe with me," said Durriken. "I will protect Tam."

"Yeah, Mom. Nothing bad will happen to me while I'm with Durry."

Ugh. Cute-name phase had been initiated. I knew kissing and… and
touching
wouldn't be far behind.

Tam leaned down to buss my cheek. Oh, my God. Parental affection. Who was this girl?

I smiled bravely. "Have a good time."
But not too good of a time, gosh darn it
!

They waved good-bye, and then off they went to explore Silverstone mansion. As the door clicked shut behind them, I felt very lonely. It had always been me and Tamara. She valued her independence, but she'd never been away from me. I knew that one day she'd go off on her own, but I wasn't quite ready to let her go. I didn't want her to explore the world without me.

You never have to cut the apron strings, baby. You just make 'em as long and as strong as your
child needs. Then they have something to hold on to when they fall and they can follow those
strings all the way home, if need be. The hardest thing to do is not hold on to the strings, to stop
yourself from yanking on 'em to save your child from bad decisions. Your job as a mother is to be
there with open arms. It's up to the one you raised to decide whether or not to step into your
embrace.

My mother was a wise woman. Whenever I was feeling lonely for Tamara—when she went off to school or to spend the night with a friend—my mother got out the Ben & Jerry's pints and the Apron-String Lecture. She knew a thing or three about letting go—as a mother watching her child find independence and as a human being taking the journey to the next life. God, I missed her.

But I guessed it was time to start lengthening the apron strings.

When I left the room, I wandered down the hallway. I wondered where Lorcan was and what he was
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doing. Then I wondered where Durriken and Tamara were… and hoped they weren't doing anything.

The Silverstone mansion was huge and sprawling. It was no surprise to me that Lorcan had a whole wing to himself. The library was at the end of the hallway. Double doors opened to reveal the dim and dusty confines of the original library. A second, smaller one was located downstairs. That was where Jessica showed me Lor's books as well as a cache from the Consortium's traveling library.

I paused on the threshold. Wow. Ever see that scene in Disney's
Beauty and the Beast
where the Beast shows Belle the palace library? That's the way I felt when I entered this wondrous place.

The room was large and circular. Book-filled shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. A walkway about fifteen feet up followed the curve of the room. In the middle of the room, the shelves curved toward a tall stained-glass window. Below it, I saw a dark alcove and the shadowy outline of the staircase that led to the second "floor" of the library.

I nearly drooled.

Four large cherrywood tables with matching chairs were scattered here and there. All the tables had open books on them—as if a hurried scholar couldn't be bothered to shelve the tomes.

Curious, I looked at the books on the table nearest to me. Nearly all of them covered various topics about ancient Egyptian culture. I peered down at the pages of the open text.

O you who take away hearts and accuse hearts, who re-create a man's heart (in respect of) what
he has done, he is forgetful of himself through what you have done. Hail to you, lords of eternity,
founders of everlasting!

It nearly sounded like an appeal to a vampire. I looked at the cover:
Ancient Egyptian Book of the
Dead
. Ah. An appeal to ancient gods—not to the fanged ones. I returned the book to its original position. The other hardbacks on the table included subjects about Seth, the god of chaos, ancient Egyptian spells, and one about the lost world of the Sudan. The Consortium had archaeologists in the Sudan trying to dig up a temple. I knew it had something to do with the origins of the taint—and maybe even finding the cure. While the vampire disease had existed for as long as vampires had walked the earth, it had seen a resurgence in recent years, becoming almost plaguelike in its duration and intensity.

The Consortium, the Wraiths, and even the Council of Ancients had been affected by the illness and all were searching for a way to stop it.

Rumor had it that the leader of the Wraiths might've unleashed the disease into parakind simply as a method of biological warfare. It seemed Ron wanted more than just to wipe out the Consortium—he wanted to wipe out the Ancients, too. But his plan must've backfired somehow. All vampires were affected by the disease, even the Wraiths.

Creeped out by the idea of such a terrible disease, I returned my attention to the library. On the left side was a huge stone fireplace. Two red velvet wingback chairs sat in front of the fireplace; each had a matching red velvet footstool. I walked to one of the chairs and ran my palm over it. Soft and worn.

Probably original furniture. Each chair had an oval cherrywood side table with a tall lamp, tilted at the right angle for reading.

I couldn't resist the idea of sitting in one of these chairs and whiling away the evening reading books.