Call Her Mine (22 page)

* * * *

Delilah awoke while the
sky was still dark outside the windows. Her side was warm where Christian held
her tight.

“You are awake.”

She turned to face him.
“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

She searched her mind.
Yes, she definitely passed out. “Did you feed me?”

His lips formed a tight
slash over his mouth. “You were weak, Delilah. You needed blood. It is my
duty—”

She gently stilled his
lips with the tips of her fingers. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I was feeling my
hunger for several days. I should’ve said something. I’m sorry.”

He was silent for a
moment. “You scared me.”

She scared herself. “How
am I going to deal with this, Christian? My body wants meat and blood, but my
mind finds it repulsive.”

“I believe you are
allowing your head too much say over the matter. You were more than willing to
take from me when I offered. Perhaps you need to simply let go of your
principles for a time in order to take what your body requires.”

She pressed her face
into the pillow and sighed. “What’s going to happen to us, Christian?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this week’s
been great. I’m really starting to like it here. We make each other laugh and
have amazing sex, but…that isn’t a marriage.”

“It is a start,
pintura.”

She supposed it was.
“What about my shop?”

He sighed. “I have valid
reasons for not wanting you to return to your English life.”

“People will worry. I
was at my shop every day. I practically lived there. I have clients who will be
wondering where I am, people I owe services to or have to repay. I could get
sued for taking money and not doing the work I promised.”

“Part of becoming
vampyre is letting go of your mortal self. I know it’s difficult, but it is
necessary.”

“Forever?”

“For now. Delilah, it is
not safe out there. You are different. You’ve always been different. You simply
did not realize it until now. But now that you are transitioned, you will
slowly come into the female you were intended to be. Others will notice.
Exposure is something none of us can risk. Whatever it is you need from your
shop, what joy it brings you, I can try to create the same joy here. It won’t
be the same exactly, but I can do my best to emulate your hobbies here on the
farm within reason.”

“Are you saying I can
open up an Amish tattoo parlor?”

He chuckled. “No. I do
not think immortals are able to be marked in such ways.”

She frowned and looked
down at her body. “My tattoos are fading.”

“I noticed. I am sorry,
pintura.
I did not realize that would happen.”

“Do you think eventually
I will look like everyone else?”

“I think that’s
impossible. You are like no one else I’ve ever come across. You will always be
uniquely Delilah.”

His words warmed her.
“You know I’m crazy, right? I mean you’ve been so set on trying to get me to
agree to stay here. Have you actually thought about who I am? I’m not easy, Christian.
I have the attention span of a fly and the energy of a bunny. I don’t do well
with being idle.”

“An idle mind is where
the devil plays.”

“Well, that may be, but
I’m pretty sure I have a little evil in me too.”

“I do not doubt it.”

He ran his fingers down
the edge of her jaw and traced his thumb over her lips. “What now?” she
whispered again.

“Now I would like to
make love to my mate. Tomorrow we have service. After that we will decide what
to do with your shop.”

She nodded sadly,
knowing the extinction of Skin Deep was inevitable. Maybe later they could open
back up somewhere else. She did have an eternity after all.

“Kiss me, Delilah.”

She leaned close and
pressed her lips to his. So soft and plush, he had the best lips for kissing
and other things. They slowly caressed one another with their fingers and
mouths, warming to each other’s touch.

Christian rolled to his
back and pulled Delilah over him. She straddled his narrow hips and took his
length in hand, gently stroking. He arched and moaned. His eyes fell shut and
his head tipped back as she caressed him.

She lifted herself and
lined his sex up with hers, gently lowering herself onto him. He moaned and she
sighed. They fit perfectly. Unlike any other partner she’d ever been with,
Christian fit into her like a true mate.

Delilah reached back and
balanced her weight on her palms resting over his muscled thighs. Christian’s
hands coasted over her front and gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling
over the pierced tips.

“You take my breath
away, Delilah. I am so grateful God has called me to you.”

She smiled and continued
to move. God and Delilah had a finicky sort of relationship. She’d eventually
have to have a long sit down with Him about various parts of her life. She was
nowhere near the place Christian was as far as faith, but the more she thought
about her situation now and compared it to her situation a few weeks ago, she
had to admit, the Big Guy had pulled in some favors.

Chapter Nine

A basket of gowns
arrived sometime that morning. Christian carried them up and Delilah was
sorting them while he dressed. She was glad to see there were more than just
green dresses.

“This one’s pretty,” she
said holding up a pale blue gown with a lace apron.

Christian stilled from
fastening his shirt and stared at her, a peculiar look on his face.

She glanced down at the
cornflower blue dress. “What?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s
apple making a slow glide under the stubble of his throat. “That is your
wedding dress.”

She looked at the gown
again. “It is?”

He nodded. “Amish
believe that the dress a female wears on her wedding is symbolic of the most
important moments of her life. When she gives her life to her husband, the one
she will love above all others, there is a celebration. And then the gown is
only worn again when she gives her eternity to her maker.”

“You mean when I die?
That’s sort of creepy.”

“Not creepy. All orders
hold such traditions. Our order however does not typically follow the second
portion of the tradition.”

She opened her mouth.
“Right. Because you guys don’t die. Yeah, it’s still creepy.”

He chuckled and pinched
her chin affectionately before retrieving his black brimmed hat from the peg on
the wall.

“How do you kill a
vampyre?”

He stilled. “Are you
doing research for future endeavors,
pintura?”

“No, I just figured it’s
something I should know. I mean, can I die if someone shoots me with a silver
bullet or if I accidentally stab myself with a wooden stake?”

“Those things would
hurt, but they would not end your life.”

“So I’m, like, really
immortal? I could throw myself in front of a train and live to brag about it?”

“Delilah,” he said with
censure in his voice. “Immortality is many things, unfortunately it is not
without pain. I suggest you stay away from all moving locomotives.”

She pursed her lips. “So
tell me. How does one off a vamp? You know, in case I ever meet
nosferatu
walking alone at night.”

He sighed. “Very well.”
Taking a seat on the bed he drew her near. “Immortals are never truly promised
eternal life. We must be careful. True, we have rapid healing abilities and can
withstand much more than mere mortals, but never underestimate that gift. It
can quickly become a curse. Eternity is a long time to be left in
an…uncomfortable situation.”

She thought about Tom
Cruise being burned alive and forced to live off rats until he got a hold of
Christian Slater years later. Yeah, she could see things backfiring for an
arrogant vamp.

“A stake will not do
more than wound an immortal,” he explained. “However, if staked enough and left
in a dangerous place, we will weaken and eventually begin to decompose. There
is sometimes a fate worse than death. Our bodies need nutrition to regenerate
and remain strong. Our minds need nothing to work. There are stories…of
immortals…being forced to live as corpses because they are too weak to see to
their needs.”

“Ew.”

“Yes, it is not a
pleasant thought. This is one of the reasons we avoid the English world.
English are curious. They enjoy playing God and discovering the mechanics
behind every living thing, leaving little mystery. If they were to discover our
kind, we fear they would run experiments that could be catastrophic. We are
more animal than human by nature. While
we
believe in peace, we are only
a small fraction of our species. If word got out that mortals were harming us,
I have no doubt there’d be retaliation unlike any of us ever imagined.”

“Vampyre apocalypse.”

He smirked. “You have a
very vivid imagination,
pintura.
” He kissed her nose. “There are ways to
immediately end an immortal’s life, however.”

“How?”

He quirked his lips.
“Promise you will not use these theories on your mate?”

She shoved him. “Come
on, Christian, tell me.”

“Very well. We can be
burned to death and decapitated.”

“So the sun is really
harmless to you guys. Nice tan by the way. The Cullens would be jealous.”

“The sun can only harm
us when we are too weak to escape it. It does burn over long periods of time
without shade and if we are left in a weakened predicament, it can do damage.”

“But…Gracie said you
guys could die if you don’t find your mate. She said that’s why you needed me.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t
say I needed you as much as I
wanted
you. But yes, it is very dangerous
to ignore a call. Our kind, once called, becomes
feeish.
We regress into
our more animalistic traits. Sensitivity to the sun, vertigo, insatiable
hunger, all eventually drive us to bloodlust. We become hungry for the blood of
our mate and only her blood will do. Unfortunately, the longer we go without
bonding, the more detached from our rational mind we become. It is then that we
are a threat to all.

“I have seen immortals
lose their minds, searching for their mates, mass genocide, in the hopes of
falling upon that one donor whose blood calls them to the point of distraction
and madness. It is a horrible thing to witness and, as an order devoted in
faith and rooted in beliefs of peace, we have agreed it is not worth the loss
of innocent life to save one immortal. Our laws state that if this were to
happen, it is The Order’s duty to destroy that unanswered immortal.”

Her lips parted. “So if
you wouldn’t have found me…?”

“Yes, I would have gone
mad and likely been destroyed.”

“But…”

“It is what I would have
wanted. I cannot harm another living thing. It is against everything I believe
in. My life is not worth the loss of innocent blood.”

She frowned. He could
not possibly be that selfless.

“I do not speak
untruths, Delilah. I would not want such a fate. But I did find you and when I
did, I saw no use in wasting time. God called me to you and you were mine. Had
I waited, you too, would have eventually felt the pull. I did not see the sense
in waiting and risking my sanity. I did not want to lose myself and risk taking
you brutally, too far gone to know how to read your comforts.”

“You mean you would have
raped me?” She couldn’t imagine him so far gone. Christian was stubborn, but he
was always in control of his actions.

“Rape is an unfortunate
part of becoming
feeish.
Like I said, we are more animal than human at
times.”

She took a deep breath
and a shiver chased up her spine. His knuckles grazed her cheek. “I would never
hurt you, Delilah. That time is over and we have nothing to fear of it ever
returning. You are mine and I am yours. No matter how much we frustrate each
other we would never be capable of truly hurting the other.”

“People hurt their
spouses all the time where I’m from.”

“It is different here.
And you are more than my spouse. You are my mate.”

He stood and fit his hat
onto his head. She stared at him for a long moment. There was no doubt,
immortal or not, if Christian wanted to hurt her he could. He was at least a
foot taller than her and built like a brick shithouse. He gave her a half
smile.

“Hey, how come you guys
don’t wear beards?”

He shrugged. “The
females find them unattractive and the males find them uncomfortable. We do not
think it is a defining factor in living a pure life, so we simply do not have
them.”

Yeah, she was glad for
that. Christian had a hard jaw that always looked due for a shave. It was one
of the sexiest traits he had. A beard hiding all that man candy goodness would
be tragic.

“I’ll go ready the
carriage and meet you out front in a few minutes.”

As Christian left a ball
of nerves settled into the pit of Delilah’s stomach. She hadn’t been to church
since she was a little girl and she’d never been to any Amish church. She had
absolutely no way of knowing what to expect, especially when those so called
Amish were a bunch of bloodthirsty vampyres.

Rather than go for
something fancy, she found her fingers braiding her hair into something similar
to what she’d seen the other girls do to their hair on the farm. For once in
her life she didn’t want to stick out. They would know she was the newbie. She
wanted to blend and hopefully not draw any unwanted attention.

Once she had her bonnet
fitted on her head and her dress in place, she took a steadying breath and
headed down to meet Christian. As she stepped onto the porch she nearly tripped
over a chicken. The thing chirped and fluffed its wings at her and she jumped.

Chickens weren’t as cute
in person. This one had a patch of pimpled flesh showing over its beak and its
eyes looked possessed.

It did a funny little
pecking walk around the porch and she hugged the perimeter so not to piss it
off. “Easy, Camilla,” she said, walking around the hen. “Go find Gonzo. Go
on…shoo.”

She looked up and saw
three kittens lounging on the railing of the porch. They—as cats often
did—seemed uninterested in her menial presence, but eyed her all the same.
Something chirped and she turned. What the fuck was that?

A horse whickered and
she glanced to the front of the yard. Christian worked beside a black horse
tightening something on its back. “Christian, you’re infested with rats,” she
called, eying the tiny, fast moving chirping things scurrying around the steps,
successfully blocking her exit.

“They are not rats.” He
chuckled. “They are chipmunks. Stomp your foot and they will run off.”

She stomped and they
stilled. Then their little bodies lifted like circus poodles begging for a
treat. “Uhh…”

He came closer. “I’ve
never seen them this close to the house before. They usually stick to the
wooded areas of the farm.” He clapped his hands and they scurried. “They are
harmless,” he said, lifting his hand to take hers.

She placed her hand in
his and he led her down the steps. She looked back at the angry chicken one
last time. “What about the chicken?”

“She had better move on
or she will find herself in my kitchen.”

Delilah stilled. “Not
funny, Christian.”

He hid his laugh. “If it
is still here when we return I will move her back to the coop.”

It was like National
Geographic around here. He led her to the carriage. It was small, black and
simple. “Can I drive?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even
consider it.”

“I know.”

She sighed and let him
help her into the back. The bench was small and made of wood. There was a metal
clutch sticking out of the floor. “Hey, there’s electric in this jalopy.”

“Batteries operate the
lights and they are necessary. As much as we have a right to the roads, the
English like to forget that fact. It can be dangerous at night and during bad
weather.”

He seated himself next
to her and plucked up the worn leather reins. They were soon on their way. The
carriage jostled and Delilah gripped the wooden seat, wishing there were some
kind of seat belt.
Right, immortal.
Unless this bad boy burst into
flames she was safe.

The steady clip clop of
horse hooves drowned out all other sound. The air was fresh and the breeze on
her face was pleasant. They were moving at a good speed and Christian seemed to
have command of the vehicle.

She wanted to ask where
church was, but traveling in an open carriage was noisier than she expected and
she didn’t feel like yelling. She also didn’t want to distract him, no matter
how at ease he seemed.

They soon fell in line
behind a couple other carriages. She assumed they were filled with their kind
of Amish because they made all the same turns and seemed to be heading in the
same direction. Delilah waited and watched the country roads roll by as her
nervousness grew with each turn of the wooden wheels.

They pulled onto the
grass along several other carriages. “Is this church?”

Christian smiled and
lifted her down from the carriage. “We do not have a church,
pintura.
We
meet in our homes. This is Elder Thaddeus Christner’s home. He is the father of
Abilene Hartzler and a distant relative to the Gerigs.”

“I have no idea how you
keep all these names straight.”

“You will learn in
time.”

“Good day,
Bredder
Christian,”
a young boy dressed in blue said as Christian handed off the reins.

“Good day, young
Nathanial. Are you having a fine time of it this spring?”

“My father has told me I
can soon start working the great field with him.”

“Wonderful.” Christian
tousled the young boy’s hair. “See that Petunia gets some water will you?”

“Petunia, sir?”