The Young Vampire Mate: The Airendell Chronicler Diaries - Book 1.5 (12 page)

George sputters, “That was you?”  I raise a questioning eyebrow at him.  “My uncle used to love to tell of a beautiful Irish pixie that materialized out of the swamp gas to save his life.  We thought he had made up the tale.”

I chuckle, “Well, he did look at me like I was a ghost or a figment of his imagination and I never did tell him that I am Spell Weaver.  I find that it is usually best to allow everyone to underestimate you.  New Orleans was and continues to be a very dangerous place for Immortals and Mortals alike.”

Valliant is laughing so hard I can only shake my head when he slaps me on the back good naturedly.  “I see my daughter isn’t the only Glynn sister who can take care of herself.  But I am curious, Mistress Breena, how did you send the gators away?”

A little spell I learned from a Voodoo priestess,” I admit.

“You practice Voodoo?” the Asgardian asks incredulously.

I smile, “Not exactly.  But I have adapted a few of their spells to use when dealing with some of the strangeness one encounters in my neck of the woods.  All magic practitioners have good and bad among their ranks.  Nelle Lebrouf, the Voodoo priestess who taught me some of their spells, was indeed a good woman.  She taught me a lot of usual magic for surviving in the swamps that I grew to love and she taught me how to track vampires, demons and just plain old outlaws through the swamps and bayous for my adopted home.”

I turn to look at Damian and he is staring at me like I have grown a second head.  I can feel his confusion and his fear or it is revulsion?  Shit!  I feel like I have been punched in the gut and initially assume that he didn’t appreciate my good natured teasing of Valliant and George.  But I quickly realize that is not what the look or emotions are about.  “You track my kind and kill them?” he asks softly.  It is fear and sadness he’s feeling.  Fear that I will hate what he is.  Sadness over what he is.

I smile gently and nod, “I do, Damian.  I will track and destroy any Immortal who lives at the expense of mortals, especially within a domain I have sworn to protect.”

He looks a little sick when he says, “So I guess that means you hate my kind?”

The sadness I see in his eyes tugs at my heart with such intensity that I respond without thinking.  I step closer to him and reach up to stroke his face tenderly, “No, Damian, I do not hate your kind.  My brother in law, whom I adore, is a Stone Cold and one of my best friends is the most famous Stone Cold in history.  I know not all Stone Colds live off of the blood of humans.  I saw your eyes in my visions before the Moonlight blessing.  They were a bright amber.  You hunt animals not men.”  He starts to protest and I shush him, “I know you gave into your nature for a while, but you chose to turn from that way of living.  For that, you have my admiration and respect.”

His only response is to lean into my hand that is cupping his face.  He closes his eyes and I am so moved by that sweet gesture that I nearly confess that I have been dreaming for him for centuries.  That I believe he is my true mate and we are destined to fall in love and live together for eternity.  But the moment passes and he looks almost embarrassed when Aideen comes to tell us that we should get back to Ada as soon as possible.

Valliant is looking at me intently when he asks; “You are friends with the Wallachian Prince Vlad III the Impaler?”

I smile fondly, “Yes, I am.  Vlad is good man.”

“How did you meet him?  Haven’t you been in the New World since before his birth?” Valliant asks me, looking more than a little bit confused.

“No, not since before his birth.  Vlad was born in 1436 I didn’t leave Europe until 1492.  But he needed a healer.  His need summoned me from the new world in 1521.  We became friends.”

George shakes his head.  “I can’t see you befriending Vlad the Impaler, Count Dracula.  Hell, he’s got to be the worst of all of the Stone Colds ever turned.”

I pin the Stone Breaker with a cold stare; “Don’t make snap decisions about people or situations.  Vlad is deadly, to his enemies and anyone who threatens his people.  But he is not a vicious murderer.  He never kills for spite, for power or even to feed.  He usually feeds off of animals, but he long ago recovered the secret of feeding from humans without changing them to his kind or killing them.”  I take a deep breath and calm myself.  “So yeah, he does sometimes feed from humans because that blood makes him stronger… but he’s not a killer unless he’s forced to it.”

Valliant chuckles and places a hand on my shoulder.  “Breena, you are a loyal friend and a wise woman to withhold judgment until you have all of the facts.”

Damian is looking at me oddly and I can’t get a good read on his emotions so I ask him what he is thinking.  “I think that you are very fond of the Dracul.”

I smile.  “I am.  Vlad is like a brother to me and a good ally.”  I don’t tell Damian that Vlad wanted more from me, he wanted to be my lover.  And I certainly don’t tell him how tempted I was to take Vlad Tepesh, AKA Count Dracula as my lover.  “I have gone to visit him several times since 1521 and he sometimes comes to see me when he needs a break from his responsibilities.”

Aideen had joined us and now chuckles; “Auntie Bree has had many powerful men seek to be her lover over the centuries.  She seems to be a magnet for the tall, dark and dangerous types.” 

I roll my eyes at my niece, “Yeah that’s me:  Breena Glynn, siren and seductress of the Dark Side.”  Aideen and I laugh about that, but the men are looking me in a whole new light and I am not sure that I am comfortable with them seeing me that way… especially not Damian.  I am relieved when Aideen brings everyone’s attention back to our current situation and urges us to go to her Father’s home in Ada.

Damian leads us to Luca’s bad ass jeep that Damian drove to pick us up.  It’s a newer JK Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon with beautiful metallic flake green paint job and massive Goodyear tires, the ones with Kevlar in them.  The vehicle is beyond doubt badass.  George and Brigid quickly load up into the back seat but Aideen angles for the passenger seat, but Damian deftly herds her towards the back seat before opening the door of the front passenger side for me. 

I grin at him and mouth, ‘Thank you’.  He surprises the hell out of me when he winks at me.  He’s a bit of flirt and a lively personality under all of that somberness.

I flick a bit of dried red mud from the Jeep’s fancy paint job and smirk at Damian that I know what he’s been doing.  He grins. “Yeah, I left early so I could hit some off roading spots I know,” he confesses, looking a bit a like a kid who has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

I smile happily and ask, “Does this have the 3.6 V-6 engine in it?”

Damian grins again and tells me that it does indeed.  “You know cars?”

“Some.  Only the kinds I like.  Like off roading vehicles, old muscle cars and Harleys.”

Brigid giggles, “She loves Fionn’s old 59 Panhead.  I think she lets him hang around just so he will take for a ride on it.” 

I laugh, “I like his Panhead, there’s no doubt about it.  But why ride with Fionn?  Didn’t I tell you, Brigid, I finished my 36 Knucklehead?  I rode it up to Sturgis last August.”

Damian does a double take, “You’ve gone on the Sturgis run?”  I nod and he grins, obviously liking my fondness for motorcycles and the ‘biker culture’.  “I was tailing a Ghoul.  A friend of mine, a mortal, told me about the bastard treating the revelers at Sturgis like his own personal buffet line.  She had tried to take him out, but he was slippery and kept getting away from her.  So Fionn and I went up there and tracked him and a couple of his buddies down.”

“Sounds like you and Fionn and pretty tight,” Damian says quietly.  I am troubled because I can’t sense Damian’s emotions.  He’s very good at hiding his thoughts and feelings.  Only a very strong mental power can do that without training.

Aideen snorts from the backseat.  “Hell, she’s practically been shacked up with him for the better part of my life.  I never have understood why you two don’t just make it official.”

I look back at Aideen, “Hot stuff, you used to live with us and you know damned good and well it’s not like that between Fionn and me.”

Aideen snorts again and says, “I know he sleeps in your room when he stays with you, and calls you his baby, so don’t try to tell me you ain’t fuckin him.  Hell, he’s a hottie.  I don’t blame ya a bit.”

I come out of my harness in a hurry and charge into the back seat to grab Aideen by the front of her shirt, “Little girl, you will not talk to me that way.  Do I make myself clear?”  Aideen swallows hard and nods.  “Say it,” I growl.

“Yes ma’am,” she says softly.

“Even if what you said was accurate, I damn sure wouldn’t appreciate you broadcasting it in mixed company.  That’s just rude, little girl.”

“Yes ma’am,” Aideen whispers again.

I nod at Aideen and return to my seat.  I buckle up and look straight ahead through the front windshield.  I am so mortified by Aideen’s insistence that I have been fucking my best friend and revealing that he sleeps in my room that I can’t bring myself to look over at Damian behind the wheel. 

After several minutes Damian realizes that I am too embarrassed to look over at him.  Actually I am trying really hard to sort out the emotions I feel coming from him.  They are a bit of a jumble and I am afraid he really doesn’t know what to make of me.  But I finally decide that his overriding feeling about me is admiration.  That’s a start.  At least he’s not horrified because he thinks I have been shacked up with my best friend off and on over the centuries.

Damian clears his throat, a wholly unnecessary thing for a Stone Cold vamp to do.  I smile at his very mortal habit.  “You mentioned muscle cars earlier… what’s your favorite?”

“I am not sure I have a favorite.  But Jenny and Fionn helped me restore my 71 Dodge Demon, 340.  It’s the only demon in New Orleans I can honestly say that I love.”  I giggle like a girl.  I love my car and talking about it makes me feel happy.

“Tell me about it,” Damian says eagerly.

“Well, it’s got a 340ci V8 good for 275hp and 340lbs-ft of torque.  And a high-performance Rallye suspension system, four-wheel drum brakes and wide-tread bias belted tires, like it came off the assembly line.  I painted it a metal flake blue-green, that kind of reminds me of your eyes,” I say quietly.

Damian chuckles, “I was born with dull brown eyes.”

“I bet they were rich brown, and soulful before Marshall got his teeth into you,” I say gently.

He looks at me with stunned eyes.  “You know about Marshall?”

I nod.  “I asked Luca about you,” I admit quietly.

That’s when I hear Aideen snort and mutter something that I can’t make out in the back seat.  Damian looks up into the rearview mirror and catches her eye.  He gives her a look that would scare the crap out of me if I didn’t know he was destined to my true mate.

I chuckle and Damian picks up the thread of our conversation.  We stay on cars so long that Brigid and Aideen doze off due to boredom.  I look back at George and he’s watching Damian warily.  I grin at him, “Don’t worry, Stone Breaker, Damian won’t eat ya.”

“Nope, but he might make a meal of you if you keep going down the path you are on right now, Breena,” George says solemnly.

“Not a chance in hell,” I tell him.

“You sound pretty confident, Spell Weaver,” he mutters in reply.

“Well, George, the first time we met I told you I have certain advantages over most folks.  I know things about people.  Hell would freeze over before Damian Summers would ever hurt a hair on my head.”

Damian looks over at me again and smiles.  I feel pride waft off of him like a fine cologne, but at the same time I feel the stink of skepticism flood the cockpit of the jeep.  I turn to face George again and say, “Tell ya what, my friend; I’ll bet ya my Knucklehead that fifty, one hundred and even five hundred years from now that Damian Summer will always treat me with caring and respect.  He will never hurt me.”

Brigid stirs and lifts her head from George’s shoulder.  “Don’t take that bet, George, and if you do, don’t put up anything you value because she’ll win.”  I grin back at Brigid before I return my attention the scenery flashing by outside my passenger window.

“Brigid, you sound as confident as your friend does,” George says quietly, looking back and forth between my childhood friend and me.

“Well, considering she’s our Clan’s Chronicler, one of the most powerful and accurate empathes ever born and she’s been receiving visions of her true mate for centuries… Judging by the way she’s acting with Damian, I suspect he’s the one.  She knows his character, his feelings and his destiny.  I’d call that a sucker bet.”

George laughs, “No shit?”

No one answers but I steal a look at Damian and he’s staring straight ahead.  But I feel wave after wave of pure, unbridled joy wash off of him.  So I just grin and keep staring at him.

* * * * *

When we arrive at Luca’s two story home in Ada, Damian hands the keys to Aideen and watches her stroll regally into her parent‘s home.  He gently grasps my hand to stop me from following the rest of them into the house.  I smile up at him and he leans closer to me and whispers, “Is that true?  I mean both parts of what Brigid said.  Can you tell what someone is feeling and have you been dreaming about me for centuries?”