Samson's Lovely Mortal (27 page)

“Thank you, Amaury; you’re a great friend.”

Her eyelids were heavy, and within minutes she was out, sinking back into the pillows as she kept Samson’s head cradled in her lap.

“Delilah, wake up,” Amaury’s voice came through her dreams. She tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop. “Delilah.”

She opened her eyes and looked at Amaury holding a glass of the same horrible liquid he’d made her drink twice already. She had no idea what was in it and had no intention of ever finding out. For all she knew, it would be toadstool—or just the toad.

“Again?” She’d practically gagged the last time she drank it.

“Sorry, but you need it. He’s been taking a lot of blood from you.” She drank, trying to ignore the awful taste.

Then Delilah followed Amaury’s look, resting on Samson beside her. He looked better. His wounds had closed, and new skin was growing over them.

“How much longer?”

“Soon. In the meantime, you’re needed downstairs in his office. There’s somebody who wants to talk to you.”

She gave him a questioning look. “Who?”

“You’ll see.”

Her gaze drifted back to Samson, not wanting to leave him. “What if he wakes up while I’m gone?”

“I’ll be here. I’ll call you immediately.”

Reluctantly she got out of bed. She felt dizzy when she suddenly stood. Her body swayed, and Amaury instantly grabbed her. A low growl came from the bed.

Both she and Amaury turned their heads to look at Samson. He was seemingly still asleep, but his fangs were showing. Amaury instantly let go of Delilah’s arm. Samson’s fangs retreated, and his lips closed.

“He can sense you even in his sleep. He doesn’t like you being touched by another man.”

“But, you were just trying to help me,” Delilah protested.

“A vampire who’s found his mate is very possessive.”

Delilah smiled at Samson. Even in his sleep he was trying to protect her. “I’ll be back in a short while, my love.”

She saw a content smile form around Samson’s lips as if he could hear her.

Carl expected her in Samson’s office.

“Please take a seat here, in front of the computer, Miss Delilah.”

“Carl.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“I’m sorry. Did I get you in trouble with Samson? I’ll talk to him when he’s better. I don’t want you to be punished for letting me escape,” she said ruefully.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as Mr. Woodford will be alright.”

“What will he do to you?”

“I was ordered to protect you, and I failed. All that’s important is that he got to you in time.”

“But it was my fault. I tricked you.”

He gave a faint smile. “No matter, Miss. I shouldn’t have let you trick me. If I may say so, for a human, you’re very smart.”

“And if I may say, for a vampire you’re very kind.”

He nodded. “Mr. Woodford has arranged a teleconference for you.”

Carl pointed to the computer screen. She sat in the chair he held out for her.

“A teleconference. What for?”

Carl switched on the monitor. A picture of what looked like a hospital room came into view. He adjusted the small camera on the top of the monitor and pointed it directly at Delilah.

“There’s somebody Mr. Woodford wants you to talk to.”

“Are we connected?” a voice came through the speaker, and a second later, a tall man stepped into view.

“Yes, we can hear and see you clearly, Gabriel,” Carl replied. “Miss Delilah, this is Gabriel Giles. He runs Scanguards’ headquarters in New York. Gabriel is one of us.”

“A …?” She perused the man on the monitor. His long hair was swept back in a ponytail and his otherwise handsome face showed an ugly scar from his ear to his chin. Yes, somehow she would guess he was one of them.

Gabriel nodded. “Yes, Miss Sheridan, I’m a vampire. It’s a pleasure making your acquaintance. I hope that I’ll have the opportunity to meet you in person at some later time. Samson speaks very highly of you.” Delilah recognized his voice as that of the man on the speakerphone.

“Thank you. Did you want to talk about the audit with me?”

“No. Everything has been settled regarding the audit. We’re aware what Milo and his sister Ilona were trying to do, and we’re working on reversing all their actions. No. This is of a much more personal matter.” He cleared his throat. “Samson has asked me to see your father.”

“My father?” Delilah gasped. Were they intending to hurt him? She pushed the thought away instantly. After her conversation with Amaury she had no reason to believe that anybody would want to hurt her or her family. “What are you trying to do to him?”

“Don’t be alarmed, Miss Sheridan. You have my and Samson’s word that your father is safe. We understand that he’s in the later stages of Alzheimer’s and doesn’t recognize you anymore. But there’s something you need to talk to him about, something you’ve been carrying with you for over twenty years. You need closure, and only your father can give you that.”

Delilah shook her head. She understood what he alluded to, but it didn’t matter. “There’ll never be closure. You said it yourself. My father doesn’t recognize me anymore. He doesn’t have any memories of what happened.”

“That’s not entirely true. He still has memories, they are just locked away.”

“Mr. Giles, I’m sorry that you’re wasting your time, but I can’t talk to my father anymore.”

“Please, hear me out. I can unlock his memories long enough to allow you to talk to him as if he was healthy again. It’ll give you the opportunity to say what you need to say to him.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. Some of us have special gifts. This is mine. I’m happy to use it for this purpose. But you’ll only have a few minutes, before his mind will cloud again, so use the time wisely. Just tell him.”

Delilah swallowed hard. The camera tilted away from Gabriel to a chair. She recognized her father instantly. His stare was blank, his shoulders slumped. Tears formed in her eyes, seeing him like this. Nothing would bring him back. She could never ask him for forgiveness.

Gabriel stepped behind her father and held his hands several inches above the old man’s head. Gabriel’s eyes closed. A few seconds later her father’s eyes suddenly took on life, and he looked straight at the camera.

“Delilah!” her father exclaimed. “Sweetheart, it’s so nice to see you.”

“Daddy?” Her voice broke. He’d recognized her. After so many years, he finally knew her again.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?  Why are you crying? Did somebody hurt you?” His voice was full of concern.

“No, Daddy, I’m just happy to see you.”

“So am I, so am I.” He gave her a ravishing smile, reminding her of how he’d always looked at her when she was a young child. “It’s been a while. Your mother and I miss you. You’re working too much, you know that?”

Delilah blinked. He didn’t know that her mother was dead. He had no memory of it. It made sense. Her mother had died when he’d already been afflicted with Alzheimer’s. There was no need for her to bring it up now. She didn’t want to cause him any undue pain.

“I know, Daddy. I’ll come and visit you and Mom the next free weekend I get. How is that?” she lied, unable to bring herself to tell him the truth.

“That sounds like a plan.”

Delilah cleared her throat. She was at a loss of how to approach him. Too many years she’d carried her guilt with her, and now that she had the opportunity to talk to her father about it, she was at a loss for words. There was no right way to start this conversation.

“Do you sometimes still think of our time in France?”

He smiled. “Many times, sweetheart.”

“Me too. I think of it a lot.”

“You were such a young child then, I’m surprised you remember much.” His voice was soft, but also laced with pain.

“I remember all of it from back then.”

He raised his hand to stop her. “Many things are best forgotten.”

“But how can I forget?”

“Only think of the good things, don’t dwell on the bad.”

She shook her head, too choked up to speak.

“Have I ever told you what a joy you were to your mother and me? I can still hear your laughter when I would push you on the swing, and you would demand to go higher and higher. You were such an adventurous little girl. So brave. Always so brave.” He gave her a big smile.

“I’m not always that.”

“In my eyes, you are.”

“Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry!” Tears started forming in her eyes.

He furrowed his brows. “Sorry for what? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Peter,” she pressed out. “I should have done something. I ...” A single tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a hot trail on her skin.

“Peter?” His voice sounded surprised. “But, sweetheart, you couldn’t have prevented his death, neither could your mother or I. Peter died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Even if we’d been there that night, we couldn’t have done anything. We always blamed ourselves for leaving you in charge of him. I’ll never forget the horror on your face that night. I wish we could have spared you this. You should have never seen him die. We were so worried for you.”

“But, Mom was so sad all the time. I thought you blamed me.”

“Blamed you? Oh God, Delilah, no.” He sat forward in his chair, wringing his hands. “We blamed ourselves. If we hadn’t had you, your mother and I would have never made it through this dark time. You were the only light we had. You were our only sunshine, but we felt so guilty that you had those nightmares, seeing him dead in his crib over and over again. We didn’t know what to do, so we never spoke about it. We always thought time would heal all wounds, and children forget. In hindsight, we should have gotten you professional help, but we just didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry we failed you. Please forgive us.” Her father’s eyes filled with tears.

Delilah’s eyes finally released the tears she’d built up over all those years. “Oh, Daddy. There’s nothing to forgive. I love you.”

“I love you, too, my sweetheart, and so does your mother. Promise me something.”

“Anything,” she agreed without hesitation.

“Stop dwelling on the past, and think about the future. Your future.”

“I promise.”

“Goodbye, Delilah,” he said, and his eyes went blank again.

Delilah slumped in her chair and gave her sobs free reign. Her father loved her and didn’t blame her for Peter’s death. She was free, finally free of the guilt she’d carried for so long.

Strong arms lifted her up and carried her to the couch. She opened her tearstained eyes and looked at the man who carried her.

“Samson!”

“Don’t cry, sweetness,” he whispered and sat down on the couch, keeping her in his lap. He wore a long robe and looked as vibrant as ever.

“I’m so sorry, Samson; I put you in so much danger.” Her tears flowed freely.

“You saved my life.”

He brought her head close to his and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said.

Samson shook his head and chuckled. “I’m pretty hard to kill, even though this time it was close, too close. Without your blood—”

She put a finger on his lips. “Shh. I owed you.”

His face took on a stern look. “You felt obligated? That’s why you saved me?” His shoulders sagged, as if all energy had left his body.

“I couldn’t let you die. I put you in this situation. If I hadn’t run off, you would have never been injured.”

“I see.”

So she’d done it out of guilt? That was all she felt? Samson felt his heart contract painfully. She’d saved him, only to kill him by leaving him again. He felt her blood run through his veins, sensed the very essence of her, yet at the same time he listened to her words. Words he didn’t want to hear. She’d saved him because she owed him.

Abruptly he removed her from his lap and sat her on the couch while he rose.

“I’m sorry that you feel this way. You don’t owe me anything. I’ll ask Carl to make arrangements for you to return to New York.”

He’d barely pressed out the word when he stalked out of the room and ran up the stairs. Seconds later he slammed the door to his bedroom shut. Delilah didn’t love him. He’d completely misread her. She’d only given him her blood because she’d put him in danger in the first place, not because she couldn’t live without him.

How noble of her!

A bitter taste spread in his mouth. He had to get her out of his life now, before she ripped his heart out and fed it to the lions. Everything that reminded him of her would have to go. He yanked open his desk and pulled out his drawing pad.

The drawings he’d made of Delilah during their first night fluttered to the floor. Samson bent down and stroked his hands over them, as if touching her instead. He yearned for those moments again when he had her in his arms.

“They are beautiful,” Delilah’s soft voice whispered behind him.

How had she been able to sneak in without him hearing her? He had to attribute it to his recovering state.

“You drew these of me.” Not a question, just a simple statement.

He didn’t turn. “You were asleep. I wanted to capture your beauty.” It seemed so long ago now. “If you want to pack, I’ll leave you to it.” He took the pictures and rose to turn away, but felt her hand on his arm.

“Please look at me,” she begged, her voice soft and gentle.

Samson complied and turned.

“If you think I give my blood to anybody and then just walk away, you’re wrong. Do you really want to know why I didn’t let you die? Do you?” She paused. “Because for once, I wanted something that’s just for me, and I didn’t care about the consequences. When you were laying there dying, the only thing I could think of was myself. Call me selfish, but I couldn’t imagine living a life without you. That’s why I gave you my blood, because I wanted you. And I still do.”

Samson’s jaw dropped, his fingers released the drawings, scattering them on the floor once more.

“You want me? No matter what?”

Delilah nodded. “I love you, and if that means you’ll have to turn me into a vampire so I can be with you, so be it.”

“Turn you …? No!” He pulled her into his arms. “No. I love you too much to do this to you.”

He sank his lips onto hers, claiming her. This wasn’t the gentle kiss he’d bestowed on her in his office, but the possessive kiss of a vampire claiming his mate. Delilah was his.