Vampire Mine

Chapter Fourteen

Roman stiffened. “You’re calling me a mistake? After nearly killing my wife? That’s what I would call a mistake!”

Marielle winced. She still needed to learn not to say everything that came to mind.

Roman strode toward the door. “This meeting is over.”

“Give her a chance to explain,” Connor said.

Roman whirled around and glared at him. “What has gotten into you? Have you forgotten where your loyalty lies?”

Marielle saw Connor’s hands curl into fists, and she grabbed his arm to stop him. “Please don’t blame Connor for my mistakes,” she told Roman.

He scoffed. “And your mistakes include me?”

Connor shot her an angry look. “Release me. I fight my own battles.”

She let go, surprised that his angry lash stung her more than Roman’s. Why shouldn’t she seek to protect him? He always protected her.

“Enough!” Father Andrew scowled at them all. “Let’s all sit down and let Marielle explain.”

She took a seat and glanced warily at Roman.

He sat with an impatient huff. Shanna sat next to him, took his hand in hers, and leaned close to whisper something in his ear. His tense expression relaxed.

They had a good marriage, Marielle realized, one filled with understanding and tenderness. Roman’s sour mood stemmed from the fear he had endured, the fear of losing his beloved wife.

She glanced at Connor who was sitting nearby, his arms crossed, his face frowning. She sighed. He’d been so happy earlier in the evening, but now he seemed downright grouchy. He knows he is losing me. She’d go back to heaven as soon as she could. And he would be left behind, still lonely and still full of pain and remorse.

His words came back to her. Ye’re healing me. Dear Lord, she hoped so. She couldn’t bear the thought of him existing for centuries with so much sorrow and despair.

“Please begin when you are ready,” Father Andrew said, interrupting her thoughts.

She took a deep breath. “Father Andrew and Connor heard some of my story last night. I have been banished from heaven for disobeying orders. Last night was my third time.”

“Her second time was when she healed a baby who was supposed to die,” Father Andrew explained. “The boy grew up to be a serial killer.”

Roman nodded. “Otis Crump. Robby told us about that.”

Marielle shifted on the hard chair. “That’s when the Archangels decided to strip away my healing abilities. As a punishment, I became a Deliverer, and I had to deliver the souls of all the women who were murdered by Otis.”

“That must have been heartbreaking for you,” Shanna said.

Roman snorted. “I’m sure it was a lot tougher on the women.”

“Yes,” Marielle conceded. “You are correct.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Roman asked.

“I think I know.” Father Andrew leaned forward. “You mentioned the first time you disobeyed. Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages?”

“Yes, in 1461.” She noticed Roman’s stunned reaction. “I was a Healer then. I was sent to a small village in Romania where a farmer’s wife had given birth to their third son.”

Roman jumped to his feet. “You witnessed my birth?”

Marielle gave him a sad look. “You and your mother were dying. I was given orders to heal your mother. But not you.”

He flinched. “I was supposed to die?”

“I touched your mother to heal her, and your father broke into tears, praising God. Then he vowed that if God would heal you, too, he would dedicate you to the Church.”

Roman paled. “My father made a vow?”

“Yes. He pledged to give you to the local monastery.”

Roman walked away slowly till he came to a wall of glass windows overlooking the garden.

“I couldn’t see any harm in healing you,” Marielle continued. “The world was full of poverty and disease. I thought you could do some good as a monk.”

Roman leaned a forearm against the window and gazed outside. “I never knew. My father took me to the monastery when I turned five and left me there. I thought he didn’t want me.”

“He loved you greatly from the moment you were born,” Marielle said quietly. “He cried and pleaded for you until my heart could no longer bear it. So I healed you.”

“You saved his life,” Shanna whispered, tears glimmering in her eyes.

Roman rested his brow against his forearm. “When my father left me, the monks gave him a sack of flour. I thought he had sold me for food.”

Shanna rushed toward him and hugged him from behind. “It was probably a gift since they knew how poor your family was.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was,” Father Andrew agreed. “But as an abandoned child in pain, Roman misinterpreted it.”

“Were ye punished for healing him?” Connor asked her.

“I was reprimanded.” She sighed. “But I didn’t learn my lesson very well. I still have trouble following orders.”

“Well, thank God you disobeyed.” Shanna turned toward her. “I wouldn’t have Roman now if you had let him die. Or my children.”

“I wouldna be here, either,” Connor said. “Neither would Angus or Jean-Luc or Gregori or any of the others who were sired by Roman.”

Roman turned and wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. His eyes glinted with unshed tears. “I can’t help but wonder why I was supposed to die. Ever since I was transformed by Casimir, I have believed it was my destiny to bring about his defeat.”

“You’ve done a lot to protect mortals and encourage Vamps to live in a good way,” Shanna told him. “I’ve always been proud of you.”

He smiled and kissed her brow. Then he looked at Marielle. “Do you really consider me a mistake?”

She shook her head. “The mistake was mine, but I cannot regret it. You have led a good and noble life. I have always been grateful that there are good vampires who are willing to fight the evil ones. And I am thankful that I can offer you my assistance.”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways.” Father Andrew smiled at her. “I believe your destiny has long been linked to these Vamps.”

She took a deep breath. Could it be true? Could she somehow be exactly where she was supposed to be?

She glanced at Connor and found him watching her intently. Her heart lurched with a burst of emotion. No, this couldn’t be what the Father intended. An angel didn’t succumb to human emotions like desire and longing.

No angel was supposed to fall in love.

It was over an hour later before Connor was able to teleport Marielle back to the cabin. Shanna insisted on fixing her a meal in the cafeteria, which turned into a cooking lesson. Meanwhile, Angus and Emma returned from Nebraska, along with Robby and Olivia.

Connor spent some time in the MacKay security office, describing the progress he was making with Marielle. Angus was eager for a final showdown with the Malcontents. The dead bodies in Nebraska had indeed been Casimir’s victims. Shanna’s father, Sean Whelan, had given them the tip about the bodies, and now, in return, he was demanding to be included in their battle.

“The man is crazy if he thinks he can fight a vampire,” Robby muttered.

Angus shrugged. “I told him as much, but he insists. He claims he can weaken them with silver bullets before they ever get close to him.”

Connor snorted. “All it takes is one Malcontent to teleport behind his back and snap his neck. He’d never see it coming.” He glanced at Robby’s wife. As a former FBI psychologist, she’d received some training in self-defense, but he didn’t think it was enough. As far as he was concerned, no mortal who was susceptible to mind control should ever attempt to fight a vampire. “I hope ye’re no’ allowing the mortal women to take part in the battle.”

“I’m discouraging it,” Angus said. “Ian’s wife can defend herself well, but now that she’s expecting, she’s agreed to stay out of it.”

Emma smiled. “Lots of babies on the way. Caitlyn’s twins are due in June. Toni’s baby in September. And Darcy’s having her second one in October.”

Connor sat back. He hadn’t known Darcy was pregnant again. He stayed out of her life now that she was married to Austin Erickson. In truth, she had never welcomed his interference, but at least he knew now that she no longer hated him. She and Austin had named their son Matthew Connor. After the baby’s birth, nearly two years ago, she’d sent him a note saying she’d never be alive to have a child if he hadn’t saved her.

Olivia reached over to take her husband’s hand. “Shall we break the news?”

Robby grinned. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She grinned back. “We’re expecting.”

“What?” Angus jumped to his feet.

Emma leaped to her feet with a squeal. “You’re pregnant?”

After Olivia nodded, Emma squealed again and lunged toward her for a big hug.

“Hot damn!” Phineas gave Robby a high five, then slapped him on the back. “You da man!”

Emma bounced over to Angus and threw her arms around him. “We’re going to have a grand-baby!”

Angus patted her on the back with a stunned expression. “I’m going to be a great-great grandfather?”

Connor suspected he was missing a few greats. “Congratulations.” He shook hands with Angus and Robby, then sat down and waited for the celebration to end.

The laughter and hugging went on for a good five minutes, then the questioning began. How was Olivia feeling? When was the baby due?

Connor shifted in his seat. First all the Vamp men were getting married. Now they were having children. It was damned depressing.

“Can we get back to business?” he grumbled. “We were discussing the upcoming battle and Sean Whelan’s foolish desire to fight. Do ye think he’ll try to make the mortals on his team fight, too?”

Emma gave him a wry look. “Funny you should ask. Sean has been especially pissed with you lately. Turns out Alyssa has a crush on you.”

Connor blinked. “Who?”

“The woman on the Stake-Out team,” Emma explained. “Apparently, you told her she was pretty.”

Connor thought back, trying to remember, then became aware that everyone in the room was watching him with expressions of amusement.

“Whoa, Connor.” Phineas waggled his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were such a ladies’ man.”

“I doona remember her,” he muttered.

“It was a few years ago,” Emma said. “Austin told me about it. He and Alyssa were holding Shanna prisoner in a hotel room when you teleported in to rescue her. That’s when you told Alyssa she was pretty.”

Connor shrugged. “Then it was merely a strategic maneuver aimed to distract them while I escaped with Shanna.” His face grew warm. Had such an offhand remark really caused a woman to develop a crush on him?

“Hot damn, bro.” Phineas gave him a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a fan club.”

Connor stood. “ ’Twas no’ my intent.” He headed to the door. “I need to take Marielle home—I mean, back to the cabin.” His face grew hotter, and he exited quickly.

Bugger. He needed to be more careful. If one silly remark had caused a woman to develop a crush, what would happen to Marielle if he kept touching her? And kissing her? The poor lass wanted to go back to heaven. That was her home. Not the cabin. If he somehow made her feel too much affection for him, it would only be harder for her to leave.

The problem was he wanted her affection. Hell, he wanted her, period. What kind of fool was he to think he could compete with heaven? He was setting himself up for severe heartache. And worse, he could end up causing Marielle heartache, too.

He had to back off, put distance between them. And yet, he had to keep training her and slipping into her mind to know where to teleport.

Damn. What a tangled mess.

He found Marielle in the cafeteria discussing theology with Roman and Father Andrew. Shanna had gone outside to play with the children.

As he approached, Marielle glanced up and smiled. His heart constricted as usual. “I’m ready to take you back to the cabin, whenever ye wish.”

“I’m ready.” She stood and gathered up her dishes. “I enjoyed talking to you again, Father. And meeting you, Roman.”

He stood. “Thank you . . . for saving my life.”

Father Andrew moved out of her way. “I look forward to seeing you again, my dear.”

Connor picked up her glass and salad bowl. “I’ll help you.”

“Connor.” Roman paused with an uncomfortable look. “I judged you too harshly.”

“ ’Tis my job to protect you and yer family. Ye had every right to be angry.”

“I’m convinced now that we need Marielle,” Roman said. “Please take good care of her.”

“I will.” He accompanied her into the kitchen where they set her dishes in the sink. “Ready to go?” He took her gently by the arms.

“Don’t you need to hold on tighter?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to lose me on the way.”

He would have to lose her eventually. He enveloped her in his arms. “I have you.” For now.

The black void sucked them in, then they materialized in the cabin next to the couch. As soon as she was steady on her feet, he released her.

She gave him a shy smile. “It’s been another long night.”

“Aye.”

She sat on the couch. “Now that we’re alone, I’d like to talk.” She motioned to the space beside her.

He didn’t sit. He knew where she was headed. “I have some errands to run before the sun rises.”

“You’re going to leave me here unprotected? Darafer might show up.”

Connor winced. She had him there.

She patted the sofa cushion. “I want to talk.”

“There’s no point.”

“Yes, there is. You’re suffering from too much pain and remorse—”

“ ’Tis none of yer business.”

“You said I was healing you. How can I if you won’t let me?”

He shifted his weight. “I’ve done fine for centuries. I doona need yer help.”

“But I want to help. I can’t stand the thought of you suffering all alone—”

“I doona want yer pity!”

She stood. “Then take pity on me. Because I will be miserable in heaven if I know you’re here suffering and feeling lonely.”

He took a deep breath to ease his frustration. “Once ye’re back in heaven, ye’ll forget about—”

“Don’t tell me that!” Her eyes flashed with anger. “I will always remember tonight, and I will always treasure it.”

But ye’ll still leave me. He turned away and rubbed a hand against his brow. “I doona think it is a good idea for us to get any closer. It would make it . . . harder to say good-bye.”

“If I have to leave you knowing I didn’t help you, that would be the hardest blow to endure. I told you, Connor Buchanan, that I care deeply for you.”

He looked at her, and the tears in her eyes ripped at his heart.

“I told you about my mistakes,” she continued. “It was my fault that a serial killer was let loose on Earth. Those women died because of me. Doesn’t it make you angry? Do you want to hate me because—”

“Nay! I doona think ill of you. Ye took mercy on a dying child.”

She lifted her chin. “So you didn’t judge me. Give me credit for being as understanding as you are. Tell me about yourself. I won’t think poorly of you.”

She would, if she knew everything he’d done. She had erred out of mercy, believing she was doing the right thing. He had acted out of rage, knowing full well it was wrong.

She sat on the couch.

He waited for her to say something, but she simply waited, watching him with a hopeful look.

He sat stiffly beside her.

Still she said nothing. Why couldn’t she nag him? It would be easier to refuse her then.

He sighed. What good could come of this? “I was born in 1512.”

“So young,” she murmured, her eyes glinting with humor. “Practically a baby.”

He frowned at her. “I thought ye wouldna judge.”

She smiled. “How old were you when you were transformed?”

“Thirty.” He slanted a nervous glance her way. “Ye couldna guess? Do I look much older?”

She looked indignant. “I wouldn’t presume to judge.”

His jaw shifted. He was sorely tempted to poke her or tickle her. Then kiss her senseless. Actually, he could skip the tickling and go straight to the kissing.

“Were you always this handsome?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Aye.”

She laughed.

His mouth twitched. “Of course ye might think that was immodest of me, but thankfully, ye’re no’ judging me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Her eyes grew tender. “So how did it happen? Roman was the one who changed you?”

“Yes. Ian MacPhie and I were fighting in the Battle of Solway Moss, just south of the Scottish border. The lands there were always under dispute, the English and Scottish kings snarling at each other, and puir sods like Ian and me paying the price.” He sighed. “ ’Twas a humiliating defeat, even more humiliating when I realized I was going to die.”

She touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “That night, Roman and Angus found us and asked if we wanted to keep on living and fighting for a just cause. We both said yes, no’ quite realizing what lay in store for us, but neither of us wanting to die.”

“Of course not.”

“Roman changed me, and Angus changed Ian. The puir lad was only fifteen.”

“He looks older now.”

Connor nodded. “Roman invented a drug that can keep a Vamp awake during the day, but it also ages him a year for each day. Ian took the drug so he could look older.”

“How interesting. And now he’s married, and they’re expecting their first child.” Marielle smiled. “I’m glad it worked out so well for him.”

“Aye.”

“Why did Phineas say you were in a mid-life crisis?”

He scoffed. “ ’Tis a ridiculous theory that a vampire will develop some . . . emotional issues after he’s lived half a millennium.”

She tilted her head, considering. “Five hundred years doesn’t seem long to me. But I would agree that you are overly burdened with remorse.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve lived with it for centuries. I’m used to it.”

“And who is Darcy Newhart?”

He winced. “A mistake.”

“She was on the fringe of your remorse, not well hidden.”

“Aye, I suppose that’s true. Things have worked out well for her, so I doona feel as bad as I once did.”

“What happened?”

“Gregori dragged me to a bar where mortal youngsters like to pretend they’re vampires. Darcy was a television reporter, doing a feature on the place, and when she tried to interview us as make-believe vampires, we thought it was great fun. But then she was attacked in the alley by some Malcontents, and by the time we found her, she was close to death.”

“How terrible.”

“I couldna bear to see her die like that, so I transformed her.” Connor sighed. “I thought I was giving her life, but I was actually taking her life away. She lost everything that was important to her. Her job, her family and friends.”

“She didn’t like being a vampire?”

“Nay. She hated me for changing her and no’ giving her any choice in the matter.”

Marielle nodded. “And that’s why you feel guilt and remorse. But you said everything worked out for her?”

“Aye. Roman discovered a way to make her mortal again, and now she’s happily married to another mortal. They have a wee bairn and another one on the way. She and Austin work for MacKay S and I, too.”

Marielle smiled. “That’s wonderful. I love happy endings.” She lounged back against the sofa. “Thank you for telling me. It wasn’t too painful, was it?”

“I may be traumatized for a few centuries.”

She scoffed. “I let you off easy. I know there’s a lot more you’re hiding in there.” She touched his chest.

He squeezed her hand, grateful that she wasn’t going to push any further. It was surprising, though, how easy she had been to talk to.

She scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned her head against his shoulder. When he glanced at her, his chin rubbed against her hair, so silky and soft. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils.

He looked away. “We should be careful no’ to get too close.”

“But I consider you a close friend, Connor. Surely two friends can embrace without it causing problems.” She wrapped an arm around his torso and rested her head on his chest.

He swallowed hard. “I suppose an occasional hug would be all right.” He extended his arm around her shoulders.

She snuggled closer. “I do like being able to touch you. For so long I couldn’t touch anyone without making them shrivel up and die.”

He certainly didn’t shrivel up when she touched him.

She skimmed her fingers along his jaw. “I like the way your whiskers feel. A little ticklish.”

A vision popped into his head of him tickling her bare breasts with his whiskers.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening.” She kissed his cheek.

“Lass.” He touched her face. “We shouldna kiss.”

“It was just a tiny one on your cheek.”

He pressed his lips against her brow. “Then we willna kiss . . . on the mouth.” He kissed her temple.

“That’s probably wise.” Her hand slipped around his neck.

He trailed kisses down her jaw. “We shouldna get too involved.”

“Exactly.” She tilted her head so he could more easily nuzzle her neck. “Did you mean what you said earlier about my breasts?”

“That I wanted to touch and kiss them?”

“Yes.”

“Aye, I do,” he whispered in her ear. “But we should be careful.” He planted kisses across her cheek.

With a moan, she leaned closer.

“We should practice . . . restraint.” He kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Yes.”

He paused, his mouth only a fraction away from hers. Her lips were open, full and moist. Her breath stirred gently against his lips.

Stop it, ye fool! Before it was too late, he turned his head and kissed the other corner of her mouth.

Someone cleared a throat across the room, and he jumped back. Bugger.

Vanda, Marta, and Brynley were back, and by the looks on their faces, they were enjoying the show.