The Scientific Method: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 10) (2 page)

A crackling noise penetrated her brooding, making her snap her attention to the left side of her desk. Emilie was chewing on her pencil like a beaver taking down a tree.

"Emilie, no. You know better than that." Debra extricated the item from the tiny claws of the white mouse and offered her a pinch of sunflowers from the jar on her desk. The mouse sat up on her haunches, seed clasped in both paws as she nibbled with a satisfied air. Debra raised a brow.

"Think you have me trained like Pavlov's dog, don't you?" She took a pinch of seeds herself, chewed while she looked back down at her notes. They were complete; she knew they were. She should move on to the latest data reports about the Delilah virus, but instead she tapped the tab on her tablet marked "birthing data".

Everything they'd collected about vampire birth data was in there, from Kane, Lady Lyssa and Jacob's son, to the most recent pregnancy in the vampire world, the daughter born to Lord Mason and his servant Jessica. But Debra wasn't interested in reviewing statistics. Instead she chose Brian's formal presentation to the Vampire Council a few months ago. If she kept it in hardcopy, it would be like a worn love letter. A simple fact, not sentiment, and a scientist never discarded fact because it was too uncomfortable to face, did she?

What I have found is this: there is an undeniable connection between fertility and those vampires and servants who have a closer relationship than is considered acceptable in our world...

What they'd done was analyze a number of carefully selected factors from both fertile and non-fertile relationships, and the results overwhelmingly supported their theory. Each fertile test couple exhibited a higher level of intimacy and trust than their non-fertile counterpart, as well as some level of what they'd decided to label as "positive dependence".

Debra went back to the report, where they'd couched it in lay terms. Terms so potent she couldn't stop re-reading them.

Positive, in that the vampire still clearly held the dominant role in the relationship, but he or she valued the servant in a manner that strongly suggests an emotional bond. One that could be defined as deep, romantic love
.

Servants could be valued confidantes, a constant blood source, useful for performing daylight chores. But they were still considered an inferior race. The idea that vampires could be in love with their servants, that there was some sort of emotional parity to the relationship? Taboo, to say the least. The specifics of these results had been kept confidential at the Council level, only a carefully edited summary allowed distribution to Region Masters and overlords. The Council needed time to digest the implications before they would be comfortable handling the reaction of the vampire world as a whole.

Deep, romantic love. She and Brian had debated the correct terminology to use for the presentation, and in the end agreed it would be best to go with a subjective term a layperson would understand, to maximize the impact. This wasn't about achieving rights for servants. Beyond having their existence publicly exposed to humans, born vampires faced no greater threat than the extraordinarily low birth rate. Made vampires for the most part simply didn't have the same longevity or strength. This was a significant finding, if the data continued to support it, and so far it had.

Closing her eyes, Debra remembered what else Brian had said to Lady Lyssa during that pivotal meeting. "I credit my lab assistant and servant with this finding. She pointed out the variable to me and backed it up."

It was ironic that when she'd met Lady Lyssa's servant, Jacob, Debra had been the one to give him the stern lecture about the nature of the relationship between vampires and servants.
The bond between servant and vampire is unique. Not family, not spouses, not lover. The excess sex drive vampires have can force us into a deceptive intimacy. We convince ourselves we're lovers, probably because the reality is beyond our ken and we don't know how to classify it. Since we can't reconcile the feeling with the reality, we use sex to Band-Aid it... If you allow yourself to believe it's something different from what it is, you've fooled yourself in a way that will only bring you heartbreak. In the worst cases it'll result in bitterness. They'll drive that lesson home again and again, twisting the knife
.

She'd been on the receiving end of that knife during her first couple of years as Brian's full servant. She considered herself a rational empiricist, so once she'd pushed past the emotional pain of what had happened, she'd analyzed it from all angles and accepted what her relationship to Brian could and couldn't be.

Or so she thought. Lately, things had been changing, new variables altering her ability to manage her feelings.

Lady Lyssa and Jacob had defied hundreds of years of strict vampire protocol on vampire-servant relationships. They were clearly a man and woman in love, no matter that as her servant Jacob only had the rights Lyssa gave to him. But what vampire law said and what people's hearts dictated were frequently different.

When Debra was around Jacob, it was clear how often Lyssa floated in and out of his mind. His handsome mouth would quirk, his eyes soften, brief flashes of humor crossing his features. Along with occasional wry frustration, since the last queen of the Far East clan was far from the most easy-going of vampires — an uncommon trait in any vampire, let alone one over a thousand years old with royal blood in her veins.

Though all third marked servants were linked to the minds of their vampires, Brian didn't spend much time in Debra's, not nearly as much as many other vampires did with their servants. Except when they were working. During those times, bringing together theory, hypotheses and testing across the bridge of their minds was so intense it was almost like lovemaking.

Sex, she corrected herself, setting her jaw. When they weren't working — or in the throes of sexual relations — her thoughts were her own. She should consider that a blessing, because plenty of servants grumbled about privacy being the major drawback of becoming a vampire's fully marked servant, the servant's mind unable to be shielded from the vampire's in any way, all the way down to the soul.

Brian had never shown much interest in that. What would it feel like, to have him reach out to her during his waking hours, touch her mind, her heart and soul? Know he was listening to her subconscious flow of thoughts and feelings for no other reason than he wanted to take advantage of that mind-to-mind bond he had with no other.

A scientist couldn't ask for more than what she had in this state-of-the-art facility, the work she was doing. Yet the main yearning she had in her life wasn't professional at all. It all revolved around an amazing vampire scientist from whom she wanted more than she could have.

She sighed, propped her chin on her hand. Damn it, she was supposed to be past all this ridiculous starry-eyed...bullshit. Way past. What was the matter with her?

Yet if she hadn't allowed for a variable as subjective as the depth of a relationship, she might never have found the connection between it and the fertility rate. So she knew the vulnerability of her heart contributed to her science. Even so, lately she wished she was as emotionless as a Vulcan.

Despite her morose thoughts, the thought gave her a tiny smile. Brian had every Star Trek series and movie made to date. His mind tended to run like a race car's RPM, so he occasionally put one in the player before dawn. At eighty-five, a young age for vampires, he couldn't stay awake more than an hour past sunrise, even in his bedroom below ground, but he said the space opera helped him sleep better.

When he watched the programs, he was different, less guarded. Early in their relationship, she'd often spent the hour before dawn watching them with him. Curled up in bed together, sweat from their intense erotic encounters drying on her tingling flesh, she'd teased him, called him a geek.

Then she'd asked him if he loved her. That had ended the comfortable intimacy between them outside the lab.

"You don't look happy."

She glanced up to see Jacob leaning in the door frame. The highest-ranking servant in the vampire world didn't dress the part, wearing his Dragon Ale Tavern T-shirt and faded jeans. Given how well the cotton stretched and denim molded his muscular form, she didn't think anyone would object. Like vampires themselves, most servants were absurdly attractive, but there was an intelligence and charisma to Jacob that made it clear why the broad-shouldered, russet-haired male was such a good match for Lady Lyssa.

Brian's main research facility had been relocated from Berlin to this vast property outside Savannah, Georgia. Since Lyssa resided here at least part of the year because this was also where the Council had its primary base of operations, Jacob was a frequent and welcome visitor to Debra's lab. She'd been a servant far longer, but he'd been the one who most helped her adapt to vampire social events, the all-too-public sexual demands they placed on servants. Beyond that, he'd become a good friend. Perhaps her best friend, after Brian. Though thinking of her vampire Master as her friend was probably more evidence of her confused state of mind today.

"I'm fine," she said automatically. Jacob smelled like cookies, which told her the cook had been baking. It was too much to hope he'd brought her some. She thought of cookies baking in her grandmother's oven, the tremendous comfort and wealth of memory a single smell could contain, and that wave of sadness hit her again.

You can't do anything about it
, she told herself.
Put it away
.

Jacob straddled a stool near the door, pushing off so he rolled across the floor to her, bumping into her to stop. Giving him a mock scowl, she bumped him back. "You're invading my space."

"I have sugar." He produced a small container of cookies, the lid cracked to release oven-baked heat.

He had thought to bring her some. Then again, she was dealing with Jacob, not Brian. Jacob anticipated a woman's needs.

Stop it. It's not your Master's job to even think about your needs
. She admonished herself firmly, even as her heart twisted at the simple kindness of a friend.

"You're evil. And wonderful." She leaned in, gave his shoulder an exaggerated sniff. "Are you sure that smell isn't you, though? According to that giggling entourage of second marks with Lady Helga last week, you are cookies, chocolate and a foot massage all rolled up into one."

"Can't help that I'm irresistible." He shrugged, fending off her shove.

Emilie was so used to him, she didn't even bother to look up from her seeds. She'd been joined by her two brothers, Albert and Nicolai, scampering out of their open cage. Debra's work desk in the corner was one of the few things she'd brought from her old life. Engraved with famous equations, symbols and sayings of historic thinkers, the polished heavy oak surface looked like it would be at home in a ship.

To remind you that science is a voyage, not a destination
, her grandfather had said. He'd made it for her. Her desk was the only place in the lab the mice were allowed to be out of their cage, mounted above the corner. They had a short, colorful set of Lego steps descending from the open door to help them reach the desk surface. Jacob nodded. "That's a new renovation."

"Courtesy of your son and his constant shadow, John."

Jacob smiled at that, touched Emilie's silky back with one gentle finger. "I see Whiskers has successfully been kept clear of the lab, else you'd be down three mice."

"I threatened to declaw and defang her last time she was here. She hasn't been back."

"You're as gentle as you can be with animals. I don't believe it." He cocked a brow at her, those shrewd eyes measuring. "You know, you're always way too serious, but serious and unhappy are different things. So what's up?"

When she didn't immediately reply, he tugged her stool closer, sliding an arm around her. The strength of his body and his scent — which really did seem to have something magnetic to female senses — was a balm to her, not a sexual enticement, but that was part of their friendship as well.

Since servants were often required to perform sexually together during vampire gatherings, she and Jacob had been down that road. But it was part of their service to their Master and Mistress, respectively. Jacob would never dream of touching Debra sexually except under Lyssa's command, so his generous physical affection in a platonic context was a comfort she could never resist, because Brian rarely did casual affection anymore. Jacob also understood how she felt about Brian. It was okay for servants to love their Masters, after all. Just not in reverse. No matter what that study said. One conclusion didn't change centuries of embedded class culture.

Damn it, damn it, damn it. She pushed away from Jacob, earning a startled look. "It's not you. I'm sorry, Jacob. I'm working on a particularly frustrating issue today and it's gotten under my skin. Just ignore me. Come back tomorrow and I'll be in a better mood."

Instead of leaving, he rose and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Debra."

"It's nothing." Her half-laugh fell short of humor and landed right into despair territory. "The servant version of the seven year itch. You look down the road, and you realize the relationship won't ever change, but this is the relationship I signed up for. With eyes wide open. It's a phase. I'm sure plenty of servants have gone through it."

She was staring at Jacob's chest, using her finger to draw equations on it, something she did to calm a racing mind. Her lungs were drawing in far too little air. His hands kneaded her shoulders. "Breathe," he murmured. "Psycho OCD nerd."

"Dumb jock."

"Not me. Gideon was the football star."

Jacob referred to his brother, Gideon Green, the former vampire hunter who was now unlikely servant to two vampires, Anwyn and Lord Daegan. "I was the Dungeons and Dragon kid," he added. "The one who talked my friends into tilting with lances on our bicycles. Shoving the lance in the spokes is a great way to unhorse your opponent."

"That's cheating. You're supposed to aim for the knight, not his horse."