Real Vampires Know Hips Happen (16 page)

I closed my eyes and wished I had Mag’s Bible. I wasn’t sure if I’d use it for fervent prayer or to throw it at the woman who’d claimed she’d given birth to me. This could not end well.

Eight

“If
you are going to work together, Mother”—I managed a smile—“perhaps you’d better introduce yourself.” I waited. At last I’d get a name out of her.

“Call me Olympia for now. I’m traveling incognito.” She gave me a cold smile like, “Nice try.” “I know you are Magdalena and Angus Campbell, Laird and Lady Campbell.” She rose and held out her hand. “Forgive me for just dropping in like this, uninvited. Obviously I’ve been listening for a while, but I’m concerned about my daughter.”

“
Forgive
you?” Angus was on his feet, Mag by his side. “You are torturing our son. Fix him, woman. Right now. Then take your blasted daughter and get the hell out of my house!”

“Oh, my. Not exactly the cordial welcome I’d hoped for.” Mother glanced at me. “And this is the family you wish to join, Daughter?” She raised her hand and I knew what was coming.

I lunged, grabbing her hand before she could follow through. “Don’t you dare throw lightning in here!”

“What?” Mag hauled Angus around to the back of the couch, closer to the door.

“She tosses lightning bolts when she’s mad. It’ll sting like a bitch and could burn this place down.”

My mother shrugged me off. “She’s right. I’m usually greeted with more respect.”

“You poisoned our son. Surely you understand if we are less than cordial.” Mag glanced at me. “Did you ask your mother to take away Jeremiah’s memories, Gloriana? So he’d forget that you betrayed him?”

My mother hissed and pointed a red-painted fingernail at Mag, freezing her where she stood, mouth agape. “You dare! I’ll have you know my daughter has wept over your son’s memory loss, begged me to restore him. She doesn’t care if he tosses her aside for her sluttish ways as long as he comes back to this century.”

I stared at her. Didn’t care for the “sluttish” comment but the rest of that speech had been pretty nice, actually maternal.

“Gloriana and I are working on a cure for your son. Be patient. There is hope that his memories will come back.” She flicked her wrist and Mag came alive again only to cross herself and mutter about witches while she clutched Angus.

If I didn’t resent the fact that it was obvious my mother was still determined to go on with her ridiculous dating game, I might have been cheered by the sight of Mag Campbell scared of someone.

Jerry and Bart chose that moment to barrel into the room smelling of horse and cold air. I wanted to rush to Jerry and kiss his smile, obviously put there by a ride on a fast horse through familiar land. But my mother’s hand on my arm stopped me even before Jerry’s smile vanished at the sight of his parents holding on to the back of the sofa like it was a battle shield.

“What’s going on here? Gloriana, who is this?” He stepped farther into the room.

“My mother, Jerry. Olympia.” I grimaced at the fake name, pretty sure Zeus wouldn’t approve.

Before any of us could stop him Jerry strode forward
until he was within a foot of her. “So you’re the one who spelled Mara into stabbing me. Proud of yourself?”

My mother looked him up and down, slowly. “I did what I thought necessary. You look fit enough now. Enjoy your ride?”

His fists clenched and I prepared to throw myself between them. He’d never survive if he laid a finger on my mother.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at me. “Did you bring her here?”

“No! I’d never…” I put a hand on his arm. “I’m trying to get her to restore your memories. Trust me.”

“Aye, I trust
you
.” He locked eyes with my mother again. “I don’t believe you can repair the harm you’ve done. I think you are a manipulative bitch who thought she could control her daughter but miscalculated.” He pulled me to him. “I may not remember our past, but the Gloriana I have gotten to know this past week is stubborn and doesn’t give up easily.”

“You are right about that. I see a lot of myself in her. We are willful women.” My mother smiled her cold and scary smile. “You have stones, I’ll give you that, Jeremiah Campbell. I begin to see what Gloriana admires in you. But you turned her vampire. I find that repugnant.”

“If he hadn’t turned me, I would have been dust these four hundred years or more! You should be on your knees, thanking him for that, not punishing him, Mother.” I held on to him, so happy I wanted to dance around the room.
He’d defended me!

“But you are not dust and I have given you my terms, Gloriana.” She swept her eyes around the room. “I see no friendly faces here. A car will come for you tomorrow night. You know what you must do.” And with that, she vanished.

“A goddess from Olympus in the flesh, so to speak.” Bart finally spoke from the doorway. “I didn’t know whether to grab one of the swords from the wall here or run like hell.”

“Neither would have done you any good if my mother had decided you displeased her, Bart. Your best move was what you did. Stand still and hope she didn’t notice you.” I
worried when Jerry stepped away from me and sank into a chair. “Jerry, are you all right?”

“Tired.” He looked up at me with a weary smile. “Come here. Tell me about how we met, why I made you vampire. It wasn’t something I usually do. I know that much about myself. Da turned each of us in the family when we told him we were ready.” He smiled at his father. “But I never made a habit of turning others vampire as far as I remember.” His smile vanished. “Did I?” He looked at his parents.

“No, son. It’s not something we encourage.” Angus helped Mag settle on the couch. They both were obviously still shaken. My mother had that effect on people. You’d think that might get me some sympathy but Mag still glared at me. Right. I couldn’t blame her for that. I’d brought the wrath of Olympus down on their son.

I sank down on the floor and leaned against Jerry’s knee. Guilty or not, I loved telling this story. I was just sorry I had this audience. His mother in particular hated to be reminded that I’d been an actress, though I really hadn’t been much more than a walk-on milkmaid in one of Shakespeare’s plays at the Globe. It had been illegal to even put women on the stage back then, but it had made the mostly male audience go wild. I’d been a desperate widow and had finally sunk low enough to hope to gain a protector by walking across the stage in a low-cut costume. It had worked when Jerry spotted me and fell for me right away.

I told the story with embellishments that made it seem dramatic and exciting. I left out the grinding poverty and my desperation. I ignored his parents and the doctor who’d dug out his ever-present notebook. Instead, I looked into Jerry’s eyes and reminded him of how we’d fallen in love. And how I’d begged him to make me his forever. I crawled up into his lap when I got to the part where he’d given in to my urgings.

“It was meant to be, Jerry. We didn’t know then that I’d been a Siren, cast out by the Storm God and left in human form to die a mortal’s natural death. Achelous had even
killed my young husband, leaving me to fend for myself. I was supposed to die back then.” I felt his arms go around me and leaned against him. “Call it fate or the workings of a God who knew wrongs that needed righting, but you gave me my immortality back.”

“Strange. That I should see you back then and have to have you. In a large city like London. I so easily could have missed your performance. Not gone to the theater when you were on the stage.” He rested his cheek on my hair. “I think you’re right. Someone fated us to be together, Gloriana. And we’ll not let this temporary madness keep us apart.”

“I’ve tried to make my mother realize that she should be grateful to you.” I traced his hard jaw with my fingertip. “But she won’t see reason. All she knows is that I’m a vampire and she can’t abide them.”

“So seeing us together is her worst nightmare?” He kissed my finger then sucked it into his mouth, nipping it with a brush of his fang.

“Yes.” I shivered at the sensation of his warm mouth touching me. I heard Mag complain to Angus that I was sinking my claws into their son again. It was enough to make me laugh out loud.

“Good.” Jerry grinned and stood with me in his arms.

I gasped. Even under the influence of my mother’s hateful magic, he was still so strong. He ignored his mother’s muttering and his doctor’s scribbling. His father raised an eyebrow but actually smiled when Jerry strode past them all and headed toward the bedrooms. He stopped at his door and I leaned down to open it.

“You don’t have to do this, lass.” His voice was low near my ear.

“I couldn’t want anything more.” I pulled his head down to give him an openmouthed kiss. It went on and on until I felt his arms quiver. I wrenched my lips free. “Put me down.”

“Damned weakness.” He set me on my feet then shut the door.

“Then I’ll feed you first.” I tugged him toward his king-size bed. “Have to admit, though, you smell more than a bit like horse.”

“I’ll shower first then. Will you join me?” His grin was wicked. “I’m not so weak that I couldn’t enjoy a romp in one of those miracles of modern technology.”

“I’d love that.” I pulled my sweater off over my head, laughing at the look on his face when he saw my black lace bra. “What? Don’t you recognize another piece of modern technology when you see it?”

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of torture device?” He traced the edges of the lace cups then snapped the elastic straps. “How do you get free of this thing?”

“Here.” I opened the front clasp and released my breasts, tossing the bra to the floor.

He frowned at the red marks made by the underwire. “Does this hurt?” He rubbed at the pressure points before being distracted by my nipples. “Why do you put yourself through that? Your breasts are perfect.”

“Thanks.” I moaned when he bent his head to suck one of my nipples into his mouth. “I can’t remember why I wear one. It’s called a bra. Umm. That feels good.”

He opened my pants without any trouble, smiling at my skimpy lace panties. “Now this is more like it. Very pretty. But again, unnecessary.” He slid them down my legs and tossed them aside. I’d left my shoes by the door. He breathed against my tummy, his hands skimming along my buttocks as he was obviously relearning the shape of my body. “You are perfect.”

“Oh, Jerry.” I blinked back tears, dropping down to my knees to kiss him silent. How I loved this man. Before too long I had him naked as well and in the shower. His hard body felt so right against my own. We were made to be together. Why was it so difficult for me to remember that when other men tempted me? I prayed that this would help him remember it as well.

He started at my neck, kissing and licking his way from
front to back and front again. His hands slicked with soap, he pushed me against the tile and lovingly massaged my breasts then rinsed them. I pulled his head down to them again, needing his mouth there. His lips tugged and brought an answering yearning deep inside me. I almost screamed my pleasure when I felt his fangs scrape across my breasts. He licked away a droplet of blood and looked up at me, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Drink from me, Jeremiah. Take what you need.”

“I need this.” He eased a finger inside me as he pressed his lips to my jugular, the warm water beating down on his shoulders so that the spray barely touched me. He added a second finger, coaxing a sigh from me with his rhythmic invasion.

The smooth heat of his cock pressed against my thigh, close, so close to where I wanted it. I grasped it in my hand, matching my movements to his own. Guiding it between my thighs, I lifted one leg to wrap around his waist so that I could bring him inside.

“Now, please. Take me now.” I lifted my other leg, feeling the sharp sting of his fangs at my neck the same moment he entered me. He filled me, completed me and we stayed joined at neck and thighs. One. Then he began to move and so did I. We pounded against each other, desperate to get close enough, satisfied enough, deep enough. I felt him taking in my life force, drinking it and becoming stronger. And still I wanted more of him. I dug my nails into his back and held on. I locked my legs around him and pressed harder, trying to meld our bodies together for all time. If only I could just fuse my memories into his mind. Give him all those years back…

He finally gasped and released my vein, his eyes fluttering open to look into mine. His hands on my ass held me firmly as he shifted me to the bench seat at the back of the large shower stall. Then he pulled away and sank down to his knees, taking me with his mouth until I fell back, so
limp with satisfaction that I was sure I was going to slide to the tile floor and down the drain.

With a grin he stood, pulling me up to take me again, the friction of his insatiable cock undoing me once more. I sobbed, so wild for him I forgot that I meant to control myself. I bit into his neck, swallowing some of his own sweet blood, filling my mouth and taking it as I always had.

“Gloriana.” His whisper brought me to my senses.

What was I doing? He’d been weak. I couldn’t take from him. But he held my head when I tried to withdraw, kept me there to drink awhile longer. Finally, I stopped. Just laid my head against his shoulder and listened to his beating heart. Strong. And satisfied. We both were. And the water was getting cold. His hand slid down to my back and my feet finally touched the floor.