Night's Mistress (Children of the Night) (17 page)

“So, who’s going to deliver the baby?”

“I was thinking you would.”

“Me?” He jackknifed into a sitting position, the color draining from his face. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not a doctor.”

“I can’t have the baby in a hospital. They’d want insurance forms and personal info. I don’t have any identification.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve rarely needed any, and when I did, I just made whoever wanted to see my ID believe they had. But I can’t do that anymore. Besides, I can’t risk having them take my blood or the baby’s.”

Kyle muttered an oath. She was right, of course. If the baby carried any trace of vampire blood, it would undoubtedly cause quite a stir among hospital personnel, especially when the mother was human.

“We could be in big trouble,” he agreed. “What about your old vampire friends? Can’t they help?”

Mara thought of Brenna and Cara and Savanah. Nice women, all of them. Cara and Savanah had both given birth. They would know what to do. But for some reason she didn’t understand, she was reluctant to ask for their help, reluctant to admit to anyone, including herself, that she needed help, even though she had never needed it more. She had chosen to stay with Kyle because he was human and because he was the baby’s father. She knew now that she would have been safer with Logan.

Mara yawned behind her hand. She was tired. Her back hurt, and she was getting a headache.

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” Kyle said, turning off the light. “You should get some sleep.”

She curled up against him and closed her eyes, but sleep was a long time coming. She wished fleetingly that it was Logan lying beside her. He would know what to do. She wouldn’t be afraid to face McDonald or anyone else with Logan covering her back.

 

 

The next few days went by slowly, and yet all too fast. Kyle turned one of the bedrooms into a studio, and Mara turned another one into a nursery. They rarely left the house except for groceries. Most nights, they snuggled on the sofa watching TV and necking like teenagers, some nights they played cards. At other times, they went for walks in the moonlight.

One afternoon, Kyle suggested Mara pose for him before the baby came.

“Like this?” Mara glanced at her stomach. She was as big as a horse.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m sure no one else would think so,” she muttered, and then smiled faintly. “But I’m glad you do.”

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I’m tired of watching TV.”

“Oh, all right. What should I wear?”

“I was thinking of painting you in the buff.”

“Nude? Are you serious?” She placed her hands on her stomach. “I don’t think so.”

“All right. Hang on a minute,” he said, and left the room.

Mara stared after him. What was he up to? She shook her head. Naked, indeed. She must have gained fifty pounds if she had gained an ounce.

Kyle returned a few minutes later carrying a sheer panel from one of the bedroom windows.

She eyed the curtain suspiciously. “What are you going to do with that?”

“You’ll see. Get undressed.”

Minutes later, she was reclining on the sofa, her girth strategically camouflaged by the curtain, so that only her arms, legs, and shoulders were bare. A pot of greenery added a splash of color near her feet.

Kyle regarded his handiwork a moment and then pronounced it, “Perfect!”

Mara shook her head in amusement. “Only you would think so.”

She watched his face as he worked, his brow furrowed in concentration, his brushes moving quick and sure over the canvas. After a time, she closed her eyes and Logan’s image crept into her mind. She imagined she heard his voice, soft and silky and filled with longing as he whispered that he loved her. In her mind, she yearned toward him, her body aching for the touch of his hand in her hair, the pressure of his lips on hers. And then his voice again, low and seductive, reminding her of the nights they had spent together, the love they had shared.

“Mara? Hey, Mara, are you all right?”

Feeling disoriented, she opened her eyes, expecting to find Logan standing over her. It took her a moment to remember where she was. “Oh. Kyle.”

“Are you all right?” he asked again.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“You were talking in your sleep.”

“I was?” A rush of guilt swept through her. Had she called Logan’s name? “What did I say?”

“I don’t know. It was in a language I didn’t understand.”

“I must have been dreaming.”

“Yeah. It must have been some dream. Your cheeks are flushed.” He smiled faintly. “Can I hope you were dreaming about me?”

“I . . . I don’t remember.”

He regarded her a moment, his brow furrowed. “I thought you might want to take a break.”

“Yes, I would. Thank you.”

He offered her his hand, and she let him pull her to her feet. “Can we continue this tomorrow?” she asked. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Sure, honey, if that’s what you want. I’ll be up in a little while.”

“All right.” She kissed him on the cheek and then left the room, her heart heavy with a load of guilt and remorse.

 

“Gone? What do you mean, she’s gone?” Lou stared at her sister. “Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. She missed her last appointment. When I called to see if she was all right, I got a message saying the number had been disconnected. Ramsden went out to the house to check on her, but no one was home, and there was a For Rent sign on the front lawn.”

Lou drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “Why would she leave?” she asked, frowning. “And where would she go?”

Cindy shrugged. “Who knows why vampires do anything? I’m going to order dessert,” she said as their waitress approached the table. “Do you want anything?”

“Apple pie a là mode and a cup of coffee, black.”

Cindy ordered the same, then leaned forward, her arms crossed on the table. “Ramsden’s going crazy. He’s called everyone he can think of, but no one knows where Mara’s gone, or why. He was supposed to induce her tomorrow night. He’s got everything ready. Crib, blankets, diapers, even a wet nurse.”

Lou grunted softly. Something about this whole thing just didn’t add up. Why would Mara take off now, when the baby was due? Had something spooked her? And if so, what? Had Bowden found her? Was he the one she was running from? Or had they taken off together? Maybe telling him where Mara was hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

Lou raked her fingers through her hair. Maybe it was time to get in touch with Bowden. Digging her cell phone out of her pocket, she punched in his number and got a recording saying the number was no longer in service. Damn.

“Something wrong?” Cindy asked.

“Bowden’s phone isn’t working. Why do you suppose he’d cancel his service?”

“Maybe he lost his cell and got a new one.”

“Maybe,” Lou said thoughtfully. “Or maybe he found what he was looking for.”

“You think he found Mara?”

“I’d say it was a definite possibility.”

“Oh?”

“I gave him Ramsden’s address.”

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lou muttered. “But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Well, pardon the pun,” Cindy retorted, “but it sure sucks now.”

 

 

Ramsden paced the floor of the delivery room he had painstakingly prepared. There was a hospital bed with tie-down straps for Mara, a crib for the baby, and a wet nurse waiting for his call.

A string of oaths emerged from his lips as he stared down at the bed. Here it was, the night before he was to induce her, and Mara had gone missing. Had something tipped her off? He went back over the times he had seen her and shook his head. He was certain he had never said or done anything to make her the least bit suspicious of his motives, and yet she had taken off without a word. Why? And what was he going to tell his wife? Janis had been wanting a baby for months, nagging, begging, crying for the child he couldn’t give her. Mara had come along at just the right time. At the height of her powers, no one on Earth, living or Undead, could touch her, but she was helpless now. Helpless and pregnant, like the answer to a prayer.

In the beginning, he had only been interested in the child. He had intended to do some research on the baby before taking it home, hence the crib, changing table, and other items necessary for looking after a newborn. Who knew what could be learned from a child conceived by a mortal and a vampire that was thousands of years old? He hadn’t decided what to do about Mara, whether to let her live or dispose of her after the baby was born. If he’d decided to let her live, he had planned to tell her that the baby had been born dead and deformed and that he had disposed of it.

As the months went by, he had grown more and more curious about Mara’s condition, and he began to wonder what had caused her to revert. Had she found a cure for the vampire’s kiss, and if so, what was it? Vampires, especially those newly made, often came to him looking for a cure that didn’t exist. But if he could find one, there was a fortune to be made. One way or the other, he was certain something in Mara’s DNA held the answers.

Of course, all his plans were useless without Mara.

Plucking a stuffed teddy bear from the crib, he stared at it a moment, then ripped it in half and threw the pieces across the room. He had never been one to give up without a fight. He wouldn’t start now. He would find Mara. One way or another, he would find her.

 

Edna Mae Turner pulled a pair of crystal wineglasses from the cupboard. She filled one for herself with O positive and after filling the second glass with AB negative, she handed it to her best friend, Pearl. She had met Pearl Jackson in a maternity ward in a Texas hospital decades ago. They had been friends, both as mortals and vampires, ever since. Shortly after they had been turned, they had bought this house and moved in together. Together, they had learned how to survive as vampires. She grinned inwardly. They were an odd couple. She was short, rather plump, and a trifle vain; Pearl was tall and angular. Edna dyed her hair red; Pearl’s was as white as new-fallen snow. Their taste in furnishings was also disparate. Edna liked chrome and glass, Pearl liked antiques, which made for an interesting mix when they moved in together.

“To Travis,” Edna said, lifting her glass.

“To Travis,” Pearl echoed.

Grimacing, Edna sipped the contents of her glass. She was used to the taste, had, in fact, grown to love it, but sometimes she forgot that she was a vampire and that drinking blood was no longer repulsive.

“I miss him,” Pearl said, wiping a crimson tear from her eye. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Travis Jackson had been Pearl’s grandson. Pearl had brought him across shortly after the Dark Gift had been forced upon her.

Pearl took another drink. “This is quite good. Have you found a new source?”

“Indeed, I have.” They had discovered early on that they didn’t like hunting. Instead, they had found a rather unsavory character named Josiah Hogg who sold blood to the vampire community. “Our new supplier’s name is Pritkin. He’s much more pleasant than Hogg ever was. Cheaper, too. And he smells better.”

Pearl nodded, and took another drink.

“Do you know who destroyed Travis?” Edna asked, resuming her seat on the sofa.

“Some hunter based on the West Coast. Lee? Lou . . . ?”

“Not Lou McDonald!” Edna exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Tell me it wasn’t McDonald.”

“Yes, dear, that’s the one,” Pearl said, and then murmured, “Oh, my, that’s not good, is it?”

“No.” Edna took another sip from her glass. “I have some other, equally disturbing news,” she said with a frown. “Or maybe it’s good news. I heard that Mara has lost her powers.”

Pearl stared at her friend over the rim of her wineglass. “You must have heard wrong, dear. That’s impossible.”

Edna shrugged. “Well, that’s what I heard.”

“Was the source reliable?” Pearl asked, her voice rising with excitement. “Maybe she’s found a cure! Do you think she’d share it with us?”

“I don’t know. I also heard she’s somewhere in California. If we could find her, and ask her . . .”

“Yes,” Pearl said. “And if she refuses . . .”

“Maybe we could get some of her blood . . .”

“And find a cure ourselves!” they finished in unison.

“Oh, to be human again,” Pearl said wistfully. “To enjoy a lovely glass of iced tea on a warm summer day, or sip a nice cup of hot cocoa in front of the fire . . . chocolate!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Edna, do you remember the taste of chocolate?”

“Not really,” Edna replied. She had forgotten so many things since becoming Nosferatu. Pearl remained the only constant in her life. She wouldn’t have wished being a vampire on anyone, but she was forever grateful that Rafe Cordova, that self-righteous bloodsucker, had turned her and Pearl at the same time. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be without her best friend. “Pearl . . . ?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m not sure I’d want to be mortal again.”

Pearl stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Think about it, about what we’d be giving up. Do you want to go back to being a weak old lady? How many years would we have left if we were human again? I like feeling good all the time. I like not needing my glasses to read. And what about you? Your arthritis doesn’t bother you anymore, does it? Except for the blood thing, I like being a vampire. And even that’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Pearl sat up straighter, a sudden sparkle in her eyes. “You’re right, of course, dear.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t keep looking for a cure for the werewolves,” Edna said brightly. “After all, they’re nothing but a menace to human and Nosferatu alike.”

“That’s true.”

“And the weather in California is much nicer than it is here in Texas at this time of the year.”

“And there’s nothing to keep us here, now that Travis is gone,” Pearl added, warming to the idea.

“And McDonald is in California,” Edna reminded her. “We could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“Yes,” Pearl said, and then grinned. “Once we were hunters hunting vampires. Now we’re vampires hunting hunters. I find that amusing, don’t you?”

“Yes, indeed,” Edna said. Draining her glass, she threw it into the fireplace where it shattered against the back wall, the tiny pieces of glass raining down on the flames in a shower of rainbow-hued crystal. “Let’s go pack!”

After draining her own glass, Pearl tossed it into the fire. “California, here we come!”