Runaway Vampire (25 page)

He nodded solemnly. “You are my life now. My future. My love. I will give you anything you want if it is within my power.”

Mary stared at him, his words circling in her mind. The “my love” part really got her attention, but even it was not enough to distract her from her desire for a baby, and she asked plaintively, “Then why didn't you—?”

“Because I will not do so until I am sure it is what you truly want and—”

“It is,” she interrupted impatiently.

“And,” he continued grimly, “That this sudden desire is not merely an emotional response to the realization that you can no longer be an active part of the lives of the children you already have.”

When she stared at him with frustration, Dante said gently, “It is not the right reason to bring a child into
the world, Mary. And I do not ever want a child of mine thinking they are a substitute for your mortal children.”

Mary flinched at the words and then closed her eyes on a sigh. “No. I don't either,” she agreed sadly.

They were both silent for a minute, and then she slipped off of his lap to go collect her nightgown from the floor. As she bent to pick it up, Mary decided she needed a change of subject to get her mind off this sad topic and asked, “What does
tesoro
mean?”

“Treasure,” Dante answered, standing to tuck himself away and do up his jeans.

“Really?” Mary asked, her expression softening.

“
Si
. It is most often used like
dear
,” he murmured, reclaiming the chair. “But you
are
my treasure, Mary.”

She could feel herself blushing, and glanced down to the nightgown she held. As she quickly pulled it over her head, Mary asked, “Whose nightgown is this?”

“Yours now,” Dante said, watching her don the gown. When she poked her head through the neck and glanced to him in question, he explained, “They keep many things here for guests that might have to stay at the Enforcer House unexpectedly. There are pajamas, nightgowns, jeans and T-shirts . . .” He shrugged. “I picked that nightgown, but was not sure of your size, so you will have to pick the jeans and tops. I did get you a razor, hairbrush, toothpaste, and toothbrush from the storage room though.”

“Thank you,” Mary whispered, surprised by his thoughtfulness.

He shrugged and patted his leg. When she moved back to him, he drew her to sit sideways in his lap and
then said solemnly, “The council has agreed to buy you a whole new wardrobe. They also intend to refund you the money for the RV and everything you lost. They will put it in a bank account for you and arrange ID for you just as soon as you tell them what name and birth date you wish them to use.”

Mary eyed him uncertainly. “Can I not use my name?”

“You can use your first name and maybe your middle name if you have one. As for your last name . . .” He hesitated and then said, “Most try to avoid the name they are known as in their mortal life. Or they include it but alternate it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked uncertainly. “Like Windy Mary or something instead of Mary Winslow?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “For instance, Francis was Francis Renart and Russell was Russell Argeneau-Jones. Argeneau was Russell's mother's maiden name. She kept it as part of her name when she married and took the surname Jones so that they were Argeneau-Jones. But we tend to have to change our names every ten years when we change identities and she and her husband alternated between Jones and Argeneau. Russell and Francis consider themselves Renart Argeneau Jones, but alternate between Renart, Jones and Argeneau on their ID when they have to change it.”

“Oh,” she said with a frown. “So I could be Mary Winslow Bonher.”

“Boner?” Dante asked, his voice a bit choked.

“Bon-her,” Mary said dryly and spelled it out before explaining, “It's my maiden name.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Well, yes, of course you could use Bonher. As for Winslow . . .” Dante cleared his throat. “I thought perhaps Notte instead.”

Mary stilled, her eyes meeting his.

“It will be Notte eventually,” he said quietly. “When you are ready to make it so.”

Flushing, she nodded and glanced down, then lifted her head right back up and asked, “What about my birthday? They want a different year, of course?”

He nodded. “Some keep their original day and month and just switch the year, but others change the day and month to the day they were turned.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured, thinking about that. Should she have a completely new birth date for a new life? Or should she settle for just a new birth year?

“You have a little time to think about it,” Dante said reassuringly, his hand moving over her back.

“How little?” Mary asked.

“I would say you should decide by the time we go shopping tomorrow,” he suggested. “Lucian will demand to know then.”

“Lucian?” she asked with surprise. “He's going shopping with us?”

“
Si
, the council is paying for the clothes you lost, so he is accompanying us tomorrow to buy you a wardrobe suitable for a warm climate.”

“Oh,” Mary muttered, so dismayed at the thought of having to go shopping with Lucian that it took a moment for the rest of his words to sink in. When they did, she glanced to him sharply. “A warm climate?”

Dante nodded, and Mary just stared at him with bewilderment. It was still winter and cold. There was still snow on the ground, she thought, and then her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. “Venezuela?”

He nodded again, a crooked smile spreading his lips.

“But I thought Lucian insisted you shouldn't go?” Mary asked.

“
Si
, but he has relented. He thinks that your presence will temper my nature and prevent me doing anything stupid,” Dante said wryly and then admitted, “And he is right. I will not do anything to jeopardize my future with you.” Lifting his hands, he cupped her face and said, “
Tu sei un dono del cielo. Con te voglio passare la ma vita.”

Mary raised a hand to cover one of his and said softly, “I don't know what that means, but if it's your way of trying to get under my nightgown, it's working.”

Dante chuckled at her candor and kissed her nose. “I said that you are a gift from the heavens.” He pressed a light kiss to her lips then and added, “And with you I want to spend my life.”

“Oh,” Mary breathed. “Wow, you Italians sure know how to romance a gal.”

Dante shook his head on a laugh and pressed his forehead to hers. “You,
amore mio
, are easy.”

“Apparently I am,” she agreed wryly, and then added seriously, “for you.”

Dante paused, his expression becoming serious as well.

Mary cleared her throat and squeezed his hand, then suggested, “If we are going shopping in the morn
ing, then we probably need to sleep soon. Perhaps you should show me what you bought.”

His eyebrows rose in brief confusion, and then his eyes widened with excitement and he jumped quickly to his feet.

Mary immediately squawked in alarm, sure she was about to hit the floor, but he caught her against his chest and carried her swiftly to the bed. Setting her down to stand next to it, Dante turned to grab the brown bag he'd returned with earlier.

“You will not believe what I found,” he said with excitement as he opened the bag. “I did not know they had so many varieties of condom. Do you know they come dotted, ribbed, studded and flavored? Truly, flavored,” he assured her when Mary raised her eyebrows slightly.

“And then they have for her pleasure and his pleasure,” Dante went on, upending the bag on the end of the bed next to Bailey. “Justin said those are shaped differently to pleasure him or her. Although there are some that say for his and her pleasure too, and then they had some with a lubricant that warms or goes cold or something.”

Mary stared with amazement at the pile of boxes on the bed and gasped, “Dear God, Dante, how many did you buy?”

“One of every kind,” he assured her.

“One
box
of each kind,” she muttered, and then pointed out, “There are at least ten or twelve in each box, and at least a dozen boxes.”

“
Si
, but we can pick up more when we go shopping tomorrow,” he assured her.

Mary just gaped at him with amazement. How many condoms did he think they were going to need, for heaven's sake?

Apparently a lot, she decided, when Dante paused and frowned before asking, “Do you think it would be hard to find condoms in Venezuela? Perhaps I should see if they sell them in bulk somewhere so we may take enough for our stay.”

“Would there be enough room on the plane for them?” Mary asked dryly.

Much to her amazement, Dante took her seriously and waved the matter away as he bent to look through the boxes of condoms. “Oh, that is not a problem. We can have them shipped down on a cargo plane.”

“Dante,” Mary said quietly.

“
Si?
” He asked absently.

“Stop playing with your condoms and kiss me.”

Pausing, he dropped the boxes and straightened to catch her under the arms and lift her to stand on the bed beside the small hill of condoms. He didn't kiss her then, but caught her nightgown and began lifting it slowly upward as he murmured, “You want me.”

“
Si
,” she said simply, using his word and gasping when his fingers brushed against her skin as they moved upward.

“You find me irresistible.”

“
Si
,” she admitted, raising her arms as he lifted the nightgown off over her head. The moment her hands were free, Mary reached for his T-shirt and began to tug it upward.

After tossing the nightgown aside, Dante helped her
remove his shirt, then quickly shed his jeans as well before gesturing toward the pile of condom boxes. “Which one shall I wear for you first?”

Mary had never imagined a man would be so enthralled with condoms. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she bent down and grabbed the first box her hand touched and then held it out to him.

“Ohhhh, glow in the dark. Good choice,” Dante said with excitement and suddenly rushed away.

Mary stared after him with amazement, then relaxed when she realized he was turning out the lights. So she could better appreciate his glow in the dark penis when he donned the condom, she supposed. The man was over a hundred years old, but give him a glow in the dark condom and he turned into a twelve-year-old. Honestly, she thought with exasperation, and then gasped in surprise when she was suddenly tackled to the bed.

“Be careful of Bailey,” she squealed with dismay, reaching out to try to find the dog.

“I moved her after turning out the lights,” Dante said reassuringly as he crawled up her body. “I suspect things are going to get interesting on the bed and did not wish her harmed.”

“Oh,” Mary breathed, and then, “Ohhh,” as his hands began to move. Her last thought, before he stole her ability to think of anything but him, was that things were always interesting on the bed with Dante Notte . . . glow in the dark penis or not.

“W
hat about this dress?” Francis asked, holding up a knee length dress in a deep crimson. “You might need something for dressy nights out if you can drag Dante out of bed long enough for him to take you out to dinner.”

Mary eyed the dress and almost winced. The color was just too close to the color of bagged blood for her to want to wear it. It was bad enough she had to drink the stuff; she didn't want to dress herself in it. Fortunately, she didn't have to say as much. Francis must have read her mind because he suddenly lowered the hanger and grimaced.

“Yes, I can see that would not do then.”

Mary smiled faintly and said, “I think I have enough, Francis.”

“Thank God,” Lucian said dryly.

Mary glanced over with amusement at the three
men all now rising from the chairs by the change room. Dante, Russell, and Lucian had sat there since entering this last store over an hour ago, all three of them keeping their opinions and comments to themselves as Francis helped her pick out clothes. Until now, that was.

“Not quite,” Francis countered, and pointed out, “We have everything but lingerie.”

Lucian groaned and sat down again. Russell did as well. Dante, however, moved closer to offer, “I will help with that.”

“Oh, no you won't,” Mary said at once on a laugh. “Lucian would end up dragging you out of the changing room again like he did at the last store.”

This was the third store Francis had dragged them to since leaving the Enforcer House that morning. The first hadn't seemed to have much in the way of clothes suitable for warm weather. They'd left the second in a rush after Dante had decided to “help” her change and scandalized nearly everyone in the store with the moans, groans, gasps and cries he'd drawn from Mary as he'd helped himself to her rather than just “help” her undress in the tiny cubicle. If Lucian hadn't interrupted and dragged Dante out when he had, they'd probably just now be waking up from unconsciousness in a heap on the dressing room floor. Or in jail for indecent something or other.

When they'd entered this store, Lucian had insisted Dante sit with him and Russell and leave Francis alone to help her.

“Mary is right,” Francis said at once, stepping be
tween Dante and Mary. “You would be of no help at all. Go sit down.”

She smiled faintly as disappointment immediately filled Dante's expression and he turned to reclaim his seat, and then turned to Francis. “Actually, while I appreciate all your help today, Francis, I don't think I want you helping me pick out intimate apparel either. It's kind of . . . well . . . intimate,” she said dryly.

“He understands completely,” Lucian said, standing up again. “We shall leave you to it and go have a beverage in the food court while you get what you need.”

Dante looked surprised at the announcement and stood up with a frown. “I do not want to leave her by herself. What if something happens?”

“We are not in Texas,” Russell pointed out reasonably. “She is perfectly safe here in Toronto, Dante.”

“Russell's right,” Lucian announced, and then turned to begin collecting the clothing Francis had been setting on the last chair as he spoke. “We will pay for all of this now so that you need not be hindered by trying to keep track of it all while you select your intimate apparel. Russell, Francis and Dante will then take it out to the car and join me in the food court for a beverage,” he added, handing items to each man until all the clothing was gathered but he held none. “I shall leave my credit card with the cashier. Just have her ring up everything you want and collect my credit card when she is finished with it, and then join us in the food court.”

Turning away then, Lucian headed for the front of the store. Russell and Francis immediately followed, but Dante paused to kiss her quickly on the forehead.
“Shout if you have any problem, anything at all. I will hear you and come running.”

“I'll be fine,” she said with amusement. “I have shopped before, Dante.”

“I know,
Tesoro
. But you are my life. I worry.”

“You're sweet,” Mary murmured and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Now go. I have scanty silky bits to buy to tempt you with.”

As she expected, his dark eyes immediately began to glow silver and he moved toward her, growling under his throat.

Laughing, Mary ducked the hand he reached for her with and waved to the front of the store. “Go.”

“Dante!” Lucian's voice rang out. “Get your ass up here. We need the clothes for the girl to ring up.”

Sighing, Dante gave her a smoldering look, and then turned to carry his portion of her clothes to the front of the store.

Mary watched him go with amusement, and then headed to the intimate apparel section of the store. Without Francis there fussing, she was much quicker at picking things. Some white panties and bras, some flesh colored, a couple strapless, and then some sexy sets purely for Dante's appreciation. Mary picked up some fishnet stockings too, purely for the bedroom. She was not going to actually wear them out of the air-conditioned hotel room. It was too hot in Venezuela for that, she was sure.

Having grabbed everything she thought she might need, Mary headed for the front of the store, surprised to see that the men were just leaving with about a
dozen bulging bags of her clothes. She almost picked up speed and called out to them, but then caught herself and slowed instead, making sure they were out of the store before she neared the front.

The cashier was very friendly and helpful when Mary set her purchases on the counter and mentioned that Lucian Argeneau had left his credit card for her. She immediately called a second woman to the front so that she could fold and bag each item as it was rung up. Mary was out of there so quickly she thought she would probably catch up to the men if she moved quickly enough, so she didn't.

Mary didn't want to catch up to the men. She wanted to do something she knew none of them would approve of, and didn't want interference. She glanced in the direction the men had headed as she slipped out of the store. Reassured that none of them were looking her way, she then headed in the opposite direction, in search of the nearest exit.

“I
still think I should have stayed behind with Mary,” Dante grumbled as they headed toward the exit nearest to the parking garage where they'd left the SUV.

“She will be fine, Dante,” Lucian said grimly. “Let it—” He paused and sighed as music began to play on his person.

Dante raised his eyebrows, recognizing the tune as a song that had seemed to play quite frequently for a while. He thought it was called “Happy,” but instead
of singing “Because I'm happy,” Lucian's back pocket was singing, “Because I'm tacky.”

“It is Weird Al Yankovich, not Pharrell Williams,” Francis told Dante as if that should explain everything.

“Leigh annoyed with you again?” Russell asked with amusement.

“Obviously,” Lucian growled as he plucked his phone from his pocket.

“Lucian's wife, Leigh, puts rather interesting ringtones on his phone when she is annoyed with him,” Francis explained to Dante, his lips twitching with amusement as the phone crooned, “Because I'm Tacky, wear my belt with suspenders and sandals with my socks.”

“I am guessing,” Russell said when Lucian merely peered at the phone face without answering, “That her irritation is because you will not let her go to Venezuela with you?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “Although to me her anger is completely unreasonable. She should be glad that I want her and the twins nowhere near the bastards who have been kidnapping immortals.”

“Because I'm Tacky,” the phone began again and he answered it impatiently and said, “I will call you right back, Derby.”

He hung up so quickly. There was no way this Derby could have responded, and then he turned to the men and said, “Take the bags to the car. I have something to do. I will meet you in the food court.”

Lucian didn't wait for agreement, but turned his back to them and began punching at his phone.

“Why does he not just change the ringtone?” Dante asked curiously as they watched Lucian press the phone to his ear as he walked away.

“Because he does not know how,” Francis said with amusement.

“He knows how,” Russell said with certainty.

“Really?” Francis asked with amazement.

“Oh, yeah,” Russell assured him. “I showed him.”

“But then why does he not change it?” Francis asked with disbelief.

“For the same reason I wear salmon colored T-shirts on occasion,” Russell said dryly. “Because he loves his life mate.”

Dante bit back a smile at Francis's expression at this news. The man looked like he was going to swoon.

“Come on,” Russell said affectionately. “I am thirsty and the sooner we get all this stuff in the car, the sooner we can get to the food court and get something to drink.”

They started moving again then, but after a couple of steps, Francis said, “I wonder what Lucian is up to?”

“What do you mean?” Dante asked absently as they negotiated the shoppers everywhere.

“Well, he had the two new guys, Derby and Hulkboy follow us into the city in an SUV. They followed us around the Eaton Center while we shopped.”

“Are you sure?” Russell asked, slowing to glance around at his partner.

“Yes. I saw them loitering outside the stores we were in,” Francis assured him and when Russell started to
look around, he said, “Oh, they stayed by the store when we left Mary there.”

Dante slowed now, glancing back the way they'd come.

“That explains why Lucian was not worried about Mary,” Russell said quietly. “He has babysitters watching her.”

“Yes, but why?” Dante asked grimly.

When both men remained silent, he started back the way they'd come.

“Dante, wait!” Russell called, hurrying after him, and when he didn't even slow, added, “At least give me the damned bags so Francis and I can put them in the car.”

Dante did pause then, just long enough to pass over the bags he carried and mutter, “Thanks,” before heading off again at almost a run. It didn't take him long to reach the store where they'd left Mary. Hurrying inside, he spotted the cashier who had checked them out and didn't even bother to ask questions, but simply slid into her mind to learn that Mary had already checked out.

Cursing, he whirled and rushed back out of the store, only to come to an abrupt halt in front of it as he realized he had no idea where to look for her.

M
ary paused outside the bank, fussed nervously with her hair, and then took a deep breath and entered. It was a large open space with the tellers at a counter
along the right side and a row of offices along the left. There was also a receptionist's counter directly in front of her and Mary approached it and smiled tentatively at the woman waiting there.

“Hello. Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, returning her smile.

“Yes, I was hoping to see one of your loan officers,” Mary said nervously, and then added, “Jane Winslow Mullins.” Her daughter, Janie, had kept her maiden name when she'd married, merely adding her husband's last name to it.

“Your name?” the receptionist asked.

Mary hesitated. She couldn't say Mary Winslow. While she wanted to talk to her daughter, she had to be careful about who knew what. Finally, she said, “Alice Bonher.”

She had an Aunt named Alice. Bonher, of course was her maiden name, and the moment she said it, she worried she maybe shouldn't have.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked as she wrote her name on a slip of paper.

Mary frowned. She hadn't considered that problem. Biting her lip, she glanced toward the offices along the wall, and then peered back at the woman. After a hesitation during which she considered trying some of the mind control business on the woman, Mary sighed and shook her head. She had no idea how to control minds, so there wasn't much use. “No. I don't.”

“I'll see if she is available,” the woman said politely, and started tapping numbers on her phone as she asked, “It's about a loan?”

“Yes,” Mary lied and then simply waited, her gaze sliding over the offices again in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her daughter. She was almost hungry for the sight. Her little girl. A kaleidoscope of memories slid through her mind. Janie as a baby, a toddler, taking her first steps. She was a grown woman now, in her thirties, with two daughters and a husband, but she would always be Mary's baby.

“She has a few minutes.”

Mary swung back to the receptionist at that announcement to see that she'd stood and was gesturing for her to follow as she moved out from behind the reception counter and headed for one of the offices. Mary followed quickly, incredibly nervous at the thought of seeing Jane . . . which was ridiculous. She was her mother.

“Here you are,” The receptionist said, leading her into a small but tidy office. The girl handed the slip of paper to Jane and then left the room.

Mary noted that she'd left the door open and considered closing it, but then left it and turned to peer at her daughter. She was a pretty girl, her dark hair framing a round face with bright green eyes. They looked nothing alike, but that had never mattered to Mary.

Janie smiled at her politely and gestured to one of the two chairs in front of her desk, “Please, sit, Ms. . . .” She paused to glance down at the slip of paper the receptionist had given her and Mary's smile faded. Janie hadn't recognized her of course. But then she looked totally different, she reminded herself. Still, she'd hoped . . .

What? Mary asked herself dryly. You thought your daughter would recognize some twenty-five-year-old-looking gal as her sixty-two-year-old mom? Dream on. And what are you even doing here? Mary asked herself. She couldn't turn her daughter, couldn't explain about nanos and immortals and whatnot. What had she hoped to gain from coming here to see her?