Mercy's Danger: Montgomery's Vampires Trilogy (Book #2) (Montgomery's Vampires Series) (3 page)

“So, it doesn’t smell yummy to you, then?”

“No! That smells like ass! You know I don’t eat human food anymore.” She plugged her nose. “How would you like it if I shoved some blood under your nose? I can if you want. I’ve got a flask in my purse. It’s David’s.”

“Oddly, Liz, I have no desire to sniff your husband’s blood.”

She smiled impishly. “That’s too bad. He’s de-li-cious.”

I shuddered. I tilted my head toward the pan. “I figured as much about the stir-fry,” I muttered glumly.

“Mercy, what’s going on? Where’s Robert?”

“Robert,” I answered, “is in the bedroom, sleeping.”

“Sleeping? Still?” She checked the time on her phone.

“I don’t know what to do, Liz!” I cried, burying my face in my hands. “I think he might be genuinely sick.”

“Sick? How?” She touched my shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

When I finished rehashing the events of the evening, Liz, succinct as always, uttered just one word:
Shit.

“Have you felt, um, sick at all?” I asked desperately. “Since you’ve become vampire? Has your heart ever started beating?”

“No. Not at all. But vampires usually don’t have health problems.”

“I know! Which is why I’m losing it!”

“Can I see Robert?” Liz asked. “Maybe if I saw him I’d come up with an idea.”

I led Liz toward the bedroom. I stopped when we got to the door. “He, uh, might say some odd things.”

“He isn’t going to be naked, is he? Should I cover my eyes?”

“No, you should be good,” I said. “He’s wearing pajama bottoms, though he was acting so crazy that he might have them on his head by now.”

Liz and I gasped when we opened the door. Robert was sitting up in I bed, his cheeks flaming pink. He had his fingers cupped under his mouth and blood was running down his chin. He was holding something.

I ran to his side. “Robert! What have you got?”

He opened his mouth to speak and gobs of blood sputtered out onto his lips.

Liz started chanting:
oh shit-oh shit-oh shit!

“Not helping, Liz!” I screamed. “Help me!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Something! Anything!” I seized Robert by the chin and yelled, “Why are you bleeding? Did you cut yourself?”

He shook his head.

“What have you got? Open your hand Robert!”

I screamed when he did.

“Mercy? What are those?” Liz asked from across the room. She didn’t dare come closer.

“It’s . . . Oh my God!”

“What?”

“It’s his fangs! But . . .” The only time I’d ever seen a vampire lose their fangs was at death. It was the only solid piece of evidence they left behind that proved that they’d truly existed. Everything else—their body and hair—turned to ash or goo.

The phone in my pocket started to vibrate as I raced to get a towel. I ignored it. The call clicked over to voicemail and then started ringing again. And again. I ran back into the bedroom, threw the towel at Liz, and then looked at the phone: Leopold.

“Help him!” I ordered Liz, and then I answered the call.

“Leopold! Thank goodness! It’s Mer—”

“Is Robert dead?”

“
What?
”

“Is. Robert. Dead?”

“No. But . . .”

“But what?”

“I think Robert is . . . is . . .”

“Speak quickly, girl!”

“I think Robert is turningback into a human.
”

3

Leopold had gone so silent on the other line that I initially thought that the call had disconnected. Many vampires I’d met were like that, though, speaking only when there was something that needed saying.

“Hello? Leopold?”

“I’m here. Robert is okay?”

I paused. “I wouldn’t say that he’s tiptop, but he’s still with us.”

“Excellent.” He didn’t sound as hysterical as what would be expected, but Robert had mentioned before that Leopold was renowned for his calmness in high-stress situations. Whatever the case, I sure could have used some of Leopold’s cool as a cucumber attitude.

“I know we’ve never met, but I need your help, Leopold,” I said, struggling not to beg.

He asked, “Why do you believe Robert has reverted back to human?”

I outlined the night’s events: Robert’s flu-like symptoms, his food cravings and hallucinations, and, lastly, his fangs falling out. Leopold made little
mm-hmm
sounds as I spoke. I waited for his input after I finished.

“Hey!” Liz pitched a pillow at me. She held up the towel, saturated in Robert’s blood. “I could use some help here! Who
is
that?”

I cupped my palm over the phone. “I
am
trying to get help! It’s Leopold,” I hissed.

“Who in the hell is Leopold?”

“The vampire who made Robert!”

“Oh. Okay then.”

Liz went back to tending to Robert who, strangely, was starting to look better. He smiled at me placidly over Liz’s shoulder. I noted that his incisors were starting to grow back, not as pointy-tipped fangs but as regular human teeth.

“And you say all this started tonight?” Leopold asked.

“Yes.”

“That makes sense, I suppose,” he said.

“What does?”

“How much has Robert told you about the bond between a vampire and the one who made them?”

I shook my head, not that Leopold could see me. What did this have to do with anything? I wanted to shout at him to tell me what to do. “Some, I guess. I know that you’re the one who made him, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yes, I was the one who turned Robert. But that was not what I wish to explain.” He hesitated and then said, “For each year Robert and I continue to thrive, the bond we share weakens. When I first made Robert, I could detect his every emotion: anger, sorrow, happiness, love. I could also detect his physical discomfort. It’s been so long since I’ve made him, however, that now I feel only a mild twinge when Robert is in pain. I’m referring to physical pain in this instance, not emotional. I cannot feel his emotions at all anymore—I haven’t been able to for the better part of fifty years.”

“Okay.” I wished he’d move things along.

“There is one bond, Mercy, that will never dissolve between a vampire and his creator. Do you know what that bond is?”

I sighed despairingly, on the verge of hyperventilating. “I have no idea, Leopold.”

“Death, Mercy. A creator will always know when their vampire child passes—Robert being my child in this case. It is a feeling like no other.”

“Right.”

“Tonight, Mercy, I had that feeling. It’s the reason I called.” He paused. “When did you say his fangs fell out?”

“Right before you called,” I answered.

“And he doesn’t appear to be passing?”

“Passing? As in
dying
?”

“Yes.”

I glanced over at Robert, who had the blood cleaned from his face thanks to Liz, the angel. He was flustered, like he couldn’t fathom why all the fuss was being made. He looked healthy and he seemed to have regained his sanity. Compared to his regular pallid complexion, he skin was clear and pink. He’d stopped sweating. His eyes had changed the most; the ethereal silver tone was missing. Now they were brilliant sky blue.

In a pool of blood on the nightstand sat his fangs.

“Leopold, he is very much alive.” I turned away so Robert and Liz couldn’t hear me. “As crazy as it sounds, I’m fairly sure that Robert has become human again. But how is that possible?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Leopold said. “But I do know this, Mercy: When a vampire dies, the only thing that remains of them is their fangs.”

“Yes, I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t make sense . . . How is Robert still alive when his fangs are sitting on the nightstand? Does that mean that Robert died as a vampire and has been reborn a human? More importantly, what would cause this to happen?”

“I’m at a complete loss, Mercy,” Leopold quietly admitted. “I’m sorry that I can’t provide you with a more of an answer.”

I asked, “Have you heard of anything like this happening?”

“Never. If a vampire’s fangs fall from their skull, it’s usually because they’ve died.”

I looked at Robert, who was staring questioningly towards the phone.

I lowered my voice. “Okay, so what should I do? Robert seems okay now, but who knows how long that will last. What if the symptoms return? I’m a little out of my realm here.”

“I could fly out to you.”

“You could?”

“Yes,” Leopold confirmed. “If you will have me, I can stay with you and Robert. Then we can put our heads together and try to figure out why this has happened.”

“Yes, we’ll have you! I need all the help I can get,” I whispered. “I have a feeling that this isn’t over.”

“I do, too, Mercy. I do, too.”

“When can you come?” I hoped he was going to tell me that he was already on his way. Wishful thinking.

“I have a few lose ends to tie up here in London, but it should not take more than a day. I’ll leave as soon as I possibly can. Try not to fret too much. We’ll get this all sorted.”

“Thanks, Leopold. I really appreciate it. Will you need to schedule your flight around the sun being down?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure how that would be possible. Most commercial flights from England would be in the air at least part of the time when the sun was out.

“No, I have my own jet,” he said, like it was obvious.

Of course he did. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll be seeing you in the next couple of days.”

Leopold and I made end of the conversation pleasantries and then hung up. I turned back to Liz and Robert. Robert was on his feet, pulling on a bathrobe. Blood was crusted down the front of his chest and pajama bottoms. If he had a chainsaw slung over his shoulder he’d look at home on the cover of a horror film DVD.

“Robert, what are you doing?” I demanded.

“I’m taking a shower,” he said informally. “Who was that on the phone?”

His casualness was worrying. He was calm—too calm. I regarded Liz, who looked as overwhelmed as I felt. When his back was to her, she mouthed
I don’t know!?

“That was Leopold. He’s coming out for a visit.”

“Good. You’ll finally get to meet him,” Robert said, and then he waltzed into the bathroom.

When the bathroom door closed, Liz whispered, “What the hell, Mercy? He’s acting like everything is peachy keen.” She pointed at the nightstand. “His fangs are sitting right there. His fangs! I have his blood all over me! Vampires aren’t designed to bleed!”

I went to the nightstand and swept the two white nubs into my hand, being careful not to prick my skin with their tips. “I’m just going to put these away for safe keeping.” I opened the top drawer on my dresser and tucked Robert’s teeth into a small jewelry box I kept there. “He seems to have forgotten all about losing these.”

Liz nodded. “I don’t think he’s better yet. If I lost my fangs, I’d be screaming my head off.”

“I’m going to make Robert get back into bed after he gets out of the shower.”

“Do you think he’s in denial?” Liz asked.

“Denial of what? I have no idea what’s going on!” I could hear my voice rising. “One minute we were talking about going to the theatre, the next I’m talking to Robert’s creator in England about Robert turning into a human.”

“No!” Liz screeched. “You don’t . . . You think Robert is human? That can’t be!”

“Uh, have you been witnessing the same things as me?”

“Still, though. Human? That’s nuts.”

“Liz, I don’t know what to think. But Leopold also thinks this might be the case, on account of Robert’s fangs falling out. And, well, look at him. He even
appears
human.”

“How crazy would that be?” The shower turned off in the bathroom and Liz offered, “You want me to go before he gets out? It might be easier to coax him back into to bed if I’m gone.”

“That might be best.”

Liz gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Hang in there. It will all work itself out.”

“Hope so. And thank you so much for all your help. You’re a lifesaver, Liz.”

“Anytime,” she smiled. “What are best friends for?”

Liz was gone when Robert emerged from the bathroom, smelling of soap and his signature scent, manliness. It took some convincing to get him back into bed, but he eventually acquiesced. I went into the living room so Robert could have the bed all to himself. With Leopold flying out, I felt I had at least
some
handle on the situation—not much, but some was better than none.

I sat back on the sofa, pulled the cashmere throw from the arm, and wrapped it over my body. I felt ashamed for relaxing, wrapped up in a soft blanket next to the fire, with the events of the night lingering. But I figured that there wasn’t much else I could do. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically (helping Robert into bed had really taken it out of me). But the physical exhaustion I could cope with. It was the fear that was hard to handle.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the smoky-sweet scent of the fire. It was a lush aroma, eucalyptus mixed with cedar. I took in another few deep breaths, holding each for four seconds before exhaling—an old psychology trick used for combating anxiety. It worked better than Valium. With the fire, the blanket, and the breathing, my mind and body were compelled to relax, to let go. The questions soon started to fade: What if Robert never got better? What if he was losing his mind? What if Leopold didn’t like me? What if I didn’t like Leopold? What if Leopold couldn’t help Robert?
What if . . . What if . . . What if . . . ?

I woke with side of my cheek stinging. Puzzled, I sat up, boiling. My shirt clung to my back unpleasantly, damp and stifling. Though still warm, the fire had burned down to a few flickering embers. Through the large bay windows that overlooked the ocean, I could see that it was dawn. I must have slept through the night.

Robert was standing above me.

Screaming, I leapt up from the sofa and desperately struggled to cover him with the blanket. “No! Robert! You’re going to burst into flames!”

Robert took me by the shoulders. “I’m fine, Mercy.”

“Are you back to normal?” I studied his face. “With it, uh, mentally?”

“I’ve never been so clear,” he said.

He stretched a hand out gingerly towards the beam of sunlight shining through the windows. He stuck his index finger into the light and waited, holding his breath.
He was breathing!

“Careful, Robert!”

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, either, when Robert moved the rest of his hand into the light, and then his whole arm. Before I could stop him, he charged toward the balcony and flung open the glass doors.

He looked back at me with a wistful smile. “Here we go.”

Robert stepped into the morning sunshine.

Golden light enveloped him. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it wasn’t the glow of fire. He was okay, no smoke or sparks in sight. His threw back his head and I yelped when he started trembling all over. Then I realized that he was laughing.

“Mercy! Can you believe it?” He spun around like a child. “I have not seen the sun in over a hundred and fifty years! Look!
I’m in the sun!
”

He rushed forward and scooped me up in his arms. When I looked into his face, I saw that he was weeping.

“How does it feel?”

“Amazing!” He put me down and dried his eyes.

“I’m so happy for you, honey.” I kissed him hard on the mouth.

When we finally broke away, he said, “Okay, I can imagine
one
better feeling.” A solid lump pressed against my hip—stiffness. It appeared that the sun wasn’t the only thing that had come up.

Without another word, we were tearing off each other’s clothes, right there on the balcony. With the house being on a cliff, we didn’t have neighbors to worry about seeing us naked. Soon Robert was on top of me, his white skin painted bronze by the sun he’d been deprived of for so long. He peppered my face with kisses that maddened me—I wanted him
now
. When his mouth met my ear, I tilted my head out of habit so he could drink from my neck.

“Can’t,” he breathed with raggedness. “I lost my fangs.”

“But you gained the sun . . .”

Sensing my trepidation, he asked, “What is it?”