Vampire Mine (11 page)

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Authors: Kerrelyn Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Vampire Mine
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She followed him into the small room and looked curiously about.

He couldn‟t believe he was having to do this. “Ye‟ve been watching humans for centuries. Ye‟ve never seen one . . . take a piss?”
Or make love?

She shook her head. “We never pay attention to bodily functions. As spiritual beings, it‟s not something we can relate to.”

“Well.” He felt his cheeks grow warm. “Ye sit there.” He motioned to the toilet. “And . . .

let it go.”

She nodded. “Interesting.”

“Then ye dry yerself off and flush it all down.” He pointed at the toilet paper and the flushing lever.

“This?” She lightly touched the lever, and the toilet flushed. She jumped back, then laughed. “Look at that! Humans are so clever.”

He blinked. He could have sworn she hadn‟t pushed the lever. He motioned to the sink.

“Then ye wash yer hands.”

She touched the faucet and water gushed out. “Brilliant!” With a grin, she dangled her fingers in the water.

She hadn‟t turned the knob. Connor backed out of the room, stunned. “I‟ll leave you alone, then.”

He closed the door and could hear her humming inside, happy with her new toys. The toilet flushed again.

Holy Christ Almighty!
What would happen if she accidentally touched a gun or a crossbow? Angus might decide she was indeed a threat.

He grabbed another bottle of blood from the refrigerator and warmed it up in the microwave. He needed to keep up his strength with Marielle around. He never knew what to expect next. How could an angel of death cause things to work? Was there something magical about her touch? He‟d certainly enjoyed it whenever she touched him.

He heard another flush, then the sound of water. He retrieved his bottle from the microwave. No matter what, he had to hold to his decision. No kissing. No hugging. He wouldn‟t even think about sex. Or how wonderfully well her plump breasts had filled his hands.

He glanced ruefully at his bottle of synthetic blood. What he really needed was some Blissky. The added whisky might numb his desire.

The bathroom door creaked open, and he remained by the sink, purposely not looking at her.

“I believe I did it correctly,” she announced proudly.

“That‟s good.” He guzzled down some blood.
Doona think about making love.

“And I discovered something amazing. I have an entire set of female private parts.”

He spewed blood into the sink.

“Connor!” She rushed up to him and placed a hand on his back. “Are you all right?”

God help him, she was going to drive him to despair. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Lass, ye canna say whatever pops into yer mind. There are things we doona talk about.”

“What sort of things?”

“Personal things.”
Like an entire set of female private parts.
How could he possibly keep that out of his mind?

“I‟m accustomed to sharing all my thoughts with the Heavenly Host, and they with me.”

“Well, humans doona share everything. We like to keep some things . . . private.”
Female
private parts. Doona think about it!

She frowned. “Like the dark secrets you keep hidden in your heart?”

His mouth thinned. “That and other things.”

She shook her head. “I‟m not sure keeping secrets is a healthy way to live.”

“ ‟Tis the way we are. My friends will be here soon.” He changed the subject and rummaged through some kitchen drawers till he found something he could use. “We need to make you more presentable. Lift yer right arm.”

She did, and he used a chip clip to fasten the loose sides of the sheet together at her hip.

There, that would keep the other guys from seeing more of Marielle than he wanted. Like her entire set of female private parts.

Mine.
Finders keepers. But could he really claim Marielle for himself? She didn‟t want him; she wanted to go back to heaven where it was all beautiful music and perfect angels sharing lovely thoughts. No secrets and sinful creatures like himself.

Three forms wavered close to the couch, then solidified.

He took a deep breath. “We have company.”

Chapter Eight

T
his is Robby MacKay.” Connor introduced Angus‟s great-grandson, who strode toward them, carrying a tote bag. “Robby, this is Marielle.”

“How do ye do?” Robby set the bag on the kitchen counter. “We brought you some clothes.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and extended a hand. “So you‟re a vampire, too?”

“Aye.” Robby eyed her hand. “I hear ye‟re an angel of death.”

“She willna harm you,” Connor muttered.

Robby gave her a quick handshake, then slapped Connor on the shoulder. “What happened to yer claymore?”

“ ‟Tis on top of Mount Rushmore. I‟ll fetch it later.” He noticed Marielle was studying her hand with a perplexed look.

“Wow!” Gregori approached her, smiling. “You are such a babe!”

She glanced over her shoulder.

In spite of an overwhelming urge to throw the nearest object at the womanizing Vamp, Connor‟s chest filled with warmth. Marielle had no idea how beautiful she was. He leaned over and whispered, “The idiot is referring to you.”

“I heard that,” Gregori muttered.

“But I have never been a babe,” Marielle protested. “I was created as I am, though in a spiritual form. This body is new to me.”

Gregori looked her over, his eyes gleaming. “Well, if you need any help getting acquainted with it, just let me know.”

“Show some respect, ye bloody pig.” Connor glanced at the kitchen counter to see what he could throw. The toaster, perhaps?

“Hey, if she‟s any indication of what‟s waiting for us in heaven”—Gregori motioned to her—“then kill me now.”

She shook her head. “Oh no! I have no wish to harm you.”

Connor leaned close to her. “Doona let him upset you. He‟s operating under the false perception that he‟s somehow charming.”

Robby chuckled.

Gregori snorted. “At least I‟m not an old grouch.” He turned to Marielle and winked.

“Great outfit. The toga look really suits you.”

She glanced down at the sheet. “Thank you. Connor fixed it for me.”

“Oh, really?” Gregori‟s mouth twitched. “I didn‟t know he was so . . . handy.”

“Sod off,” Connor grumbled. The toaster wouldn‟t do. Maybe the big wooden chopping block.

“I am delighted to meet you, my beautiful angel.” Gregori took her hand and kissed it, his mouth lingering on her skin.

Connor gritted his teeth. The chopping block wouldn‟t do. Maybe the meat cleaver.

“Pleased to meet you.” She retrieved her hand from Gregori‟s grasp. Her brow furrowed once again with a perplexed look.

Connor picked up a black rubber coaster. “Why are ye here, Gregori?”

“My mother insisted, so I could give her a full report.” He gave Marielle an apologetic look. “She really wanted to come herself. She‟s dying to meet you, but Roman was afraid there might be some
real
dying after what happened to— Hey!” He narrowly dodged the coaster that zipped past his ear and bounced off the wall behind him. “What the hell was that?”

Connor arched an eyebrow as he reached for a second coaster.

“Why are you throwing things?” Marielle asked.

He shrugged. “Target practice.”

Robby‟s eyes narrowed. “Does she no‟ know?”

“There‟s nothing to know.” Connor dropped the coaster and led her toward the fireplace where the third person was waiting. The priest had remained silent since their arrival, gazing at the angel with a look of awe and reverence.

“I‟d like you to meet Father Andrew,” Connor said.

Marielle smiled. “God bless you, dear soul.”

The priest pressed a hand to his chest while his eyes glimmered with tears. “I cannot begin to tell you what a joy and honor this is. So many years of relying on faith, struggling with my faith, and here you are—proof that I have not believed in vain, that all the words I have spoken over the years are true.”

Her eyes shimmered with moisture. “Son of Man, your Father loves you dearly.” She reached out to touch him.

Connor seized her wrist and guided her back to the rocking chair. “Would ye care to sit down?”

The priest hadn‟t noticed Connor‟s interference. He was busy retrieving a cotton handkerchief from his coat pocket, then wiping the tears from his face.

But Marielle noticed, and she whispered, “What is going on, Connor?”

He opened his mouth to say “nothing,” but found it hard to lie straight to her angelic face.

“She needs to know.” Robby moved close to the priest.

“Nay. She‟s been through enough tonight.” Connor wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I willna have you upsetting her.”

Robby‟s eyebrows rose. Father Andrew froze with his handkerchief half tucked into his pocket. And Gregori, blast him, actually grinned.

Connor felt warmth flooding his face, but he kept his arm around her. “She‟s been through hell tonight—banished from her home, attacked, her back burned and her wings ripped off. She was left in the dirt wounded and bleeding. And she was threatened by a demon—”

“A demon!” Father Andrew‟s face grew pale. “Oh dear God. Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she replied softly. “But I‟m afraid there‟s something you‟re not telling me.”

When the priest nodded, Connor groaned and lowered his arm. Hadn‟t she been through enough tonight?

“I would consider it a great honor to be touched by an angel,” Father Andrew explained.

“But my friends are concerned that your touch could harm me.”

“Oh. Is that all?” She exhaled wearily. “You need not fear. I have lost most of my angelic gifts. I can no longer fly or communicate with the Heavenly Host. And my touch no longer kills.

I have been touching Connor all evening with no effect whatsoever.”

Gregori snorted. “Right. No effect at all.”

Connor scowled at him. “She would never knowingly harm anyone.”

“Tell that to Shanna,” Gregori muttered.

“Who?” Marielle asked.

“Stop yer yammering,” Connor growled at Gregori. “We can warn her no‟ to touch mortals and leave it at that.”

“Are you saying I‟m still dangerous?” Her eyes widened with alarm.

“Only to mortals,” Connor grumbled. “Ye can touch us Vamps without a problem. We‟re already somewhat dead.”

“And how do you know this? What happened?” She gave him an annoyed look when he remained silent. “You‟d better tell me. You may be centuries old, but I am millennia old, so don‟t treat me like a child.”

He arched a brow at her and whispered, “Have I been treating you like a child?”

Her cheeks turned pink.

“My dear,” Father Andrew began. “Perhaps we can help you fill in the blanks if you tell us what you remember from tonight.” He motioned to the rocking chair as he sat on the couch.

“I, for one, am very eager to hear your story.”

“All right.” She perched on the rocking chair while Connor remained standing by her side.

Robby and Gregori sat on the couch, sandwiching the priest between them.

She folded her hands in her lap. “Earlier this evening, we were sent to a campground in the area known as South Dakota.”

“Who is „we‟?” Robby asked.

“My supervisor Zackriel and I,” she explained. “We received orders to deliver seven souls. After we arrived, I took a married couple. They were already dead, but their souls were clinging to each other in great fear and despair over their children.”

She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I took them quickly so they could be at peace, but they pleaded for their children, and I . . .” She clenched her hands together tightly. “I could not bear it. Two of the children were still alive, barely, but I thought they could be saved, so I refused to take them.”

Connor touched her shoulder. His beautiful, sweet Marielle; she‟d lost everything, trying to protect two children. She glanced up at him with tears in her eyes. God help him, he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. But he couldn‟t do it in front of the others. What he was feeling was far too intense to let anyone else see.

“What happened then?” Father Andrew asked.

She dragged her gaze away from Connor, reluctantly, he thought, and continued,

“Zackriel and I argued, but in the end, more Deliverers came to help him take the children. I flew off into the woods to grieve and pray. Then a little while later, Zack found me and told me I was to be banished.”

“Damn,” Gregori muttered. “That‟s harsh. All you wanted to do is save a few kids.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I disobeyed orders. And it was the third time. I should have known better. Every time I have disobeyed, the consequences have been dire. Tragic events occur in the human world that could have been avoided if I‟d only done as I was told.”

Robby glanced at Connor, then back at her. “So ye have trouble following orders? Where have I heard that before?”

Connor gave him a wry look.

“So I was punished,” she continued, her shoulders sagging. “Zackriel took my wings. I don‟t remember much after that.”

“I heard him attacking you.” Connor squeezed her shoulder. “I saw the fireballs and heard yer screams. He left you in a dirty pit, bleeding and wounded.”

She looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I remember someone holding me and a soft, lilting voice that gave me comfort.”

“Oh yeah.” Gregori smirked. “Our Connor is such a sweetie.”

He grabbed a paperback book off a nearby bookshelf and tossed it at Gregori, who managed to dodge it with vampire speed.

“Ye doona remember going anywhere?” Robby asked.

Marielle shook her head. “I remember pain, lots of pain. And darkness. It was very strange, because I‟ve never lost consciousness before. I suppose it happened because of this human body I have now. When I woke up, I was here. With Connor.”

She glanced up at him, her blue eyes beseeching. “Please tell me what happened.”

He groaned inwardly. “I wanted to spare you the details. ‟Twas no‟ yer fault, lass. Ye kept telling me no‟ to touch you, but I did anyway, and nothing happened. Emma, Roman, and Laszlo touched you, too—”

“When?” Marielle asked. “Where?”

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