Darlings of Darkness: A Vampire Anthology Part 183

Then heavy footsteps, and I heard Joe's low rumbling tone, "Is she alright?"

"Such a weird dream." I heard myself say in an unusual tone. I was so hoa.r.s.e, and my throat burned as the words came out, so I said nothing more. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was lifted. The ground came away under me. The world went silent once again.

"Take her temperature every few hours. We don't want this to turn into a hospital stay for pneumonia."

When I opened my eyes I realized I was back in my bed at the main house. There were no less than three quilts covering me, a cup of what looked to be fresh steaming tea sitting on my nightstand and Dr. Fleming watching me from the foot of my bed with his arms crossed, a worried frown puckering his mouth.

"Nelly, she's waking up." he said.

A familiar hand pressed against my brow. "She's still very warm."

"Of course I'm warm," I croaked. "I'm being smothered by these quilts."

Nelly's face brightened a bit at my complaint. "Well, now. Her temper's on the mend, at least." She fussed around me for a long time, taking off one quilt, replacing it with a thin blanket, then taking that one off as well and replacing it with a sheet. She forced me to take a sip of the tea she had made and then hustled downstairs with the cup muttering at herself because she had forgotten the honey.

"You want to tell me what happened, Sarah?" the doctor asked.

I was not sure what to say and ended up revealing only a little of the truth. "I've been upset lately about Dad." I sighed and readjusted myself so I was sitting up against the pillows. "It's been rough. I think I kind of freaked out, or something."

"He was a good man. I miss him, too." He walked over to my dresser, picked something up, and brought it to me. The journal was in his hand as he looked at me thoughtfully, "There's a letter in here that your father wrote to you. Have you read it?"

I took the journal from him and flipped to the back. A single folded sheet of yellow legal paper fell onto my lap. I glanced at Dr. Fleming shortly before unfolding it. When I saw my father's familiar scratchy handwriting, I felt my heartbeat speed up. I had not realized exactly how much I had missed him until that very moment.

Dearest Sarah, You know I'm not much for writing. But I owe you some answers and I aim to give them to you. I found out that I had cancer a year ago. I didn't want to go through any chemo-type stuff. I figure that if G.o.d gave me cancer, he did it for a good reason. I've also got a lot of faith in my girls. You especially, Sarah. You've always been real strong, pumpkin. Katie was always the book smart one and you were the one with a backbone made of solid steel.

The load I've left for you to carry is a heavy one. I ain't just talking about the Inn either. When you read this journal, you'll understand more about all that. I want you to know that I love you. I trust you to make the right decisions for yourself. Nelly will be there to help you when I'm gone, bless her soul. Joe will stay on to do the ch.o.r.es as long as his old bones hold out.

You and Katie-bug will need to lean on each other. If you can keep her from knowing about the meadow, I figure she'll be better off. Make sure she keeps up with her studies. She's going to make a great vet one day.

-Dad P.S. One of these days, I want you to ride that mare. She's a waste of good hay otherwise.

I chuckled through my tears. Looking up at Dr. Fleming, I smiled a half smile, "Thank you."

He gave me a nod of acknowledgment and turned to go. Stopping in the doorway, he turned back and said, "The Council will be sending representatives soon to meet with you." He stepped out of the room and I heard him make his way down the hallway.

I stared at the empty doorway with my mouth wide open. The Council? Had the doctor read my Dad's journal? How much did he know? Could Dr. Fleming be involved in this? I pressed my hands against my warm cheeks, hardly believing it to be possible.

Later, I regarded Nelly's entrance with lingering shock still coursing through me. "Alright, young lady. You finish your tea and then I'm bringing up a bowl of my chicken soup." "And I expect you to eat every bite," she insisted. "Then you're going to rest."

"I'm twenty-three years old, Nelly. Not five."

She huffed and leaned over to put the third quilt back into place again over my legs, "Well, then you should take better care of yourself, missy."

"Then there wouldn't be anything left for you to do." I replied with a wry grin.

Trying to be a good patient, I ate most of what Nelly brought up for me as I began to read the journal again. My grandfather had done some research, apparently. His handwriting was illegible at times, but he was thorough and descriptive. He explained in detail some meetings he had had with the Council. They had explained to him that the first vampire warden had been a p.a.w.nee ancestor of mine who had an encounter with a vampire. The vampire had lived for centuries wandering the Earth and wanted a safe place to rest. The tribe's medicine man called upon the power of Tirawa, the creation G.o.d, to create a sacred place where the vampire could rest. The ceremony was performed in song and dance around a sacred medicine bundle.

When it was over, the vampire dug himself down into the Earth for the 'long sleep'. When the vampire awoke, he found that he could not leave. The medicine man explained that the vampire's warden must approve before the vampire could set off again. There was a magical field of energy surrounding the sacred resting place.

No vampires could come in or leave without the consent of the Warden. According to what I had read, my father had been the Warden. Now it was me. I closed the journal but kept the letter from Dad and pushed it under my pillow.

The lamp on my nightstand issued the only light in my room. Night had descended on the Inn, and there was only the sound of the wind against my window. I put the journal on the nightstand and switched off the lamp.

I tossed one of the quilts off my legs and turned on my side, facing the window. Alex had not made an appearance at all since our fight in the barn. It seemed odd, but I missed him. His bright smile and dancing green eyes had become something I counted on seeing every morning now. I still was not completely sure he had been telling the truth about my mother, but given what I had read in the journal, anything was possible.

That night I slept without dreaming.

Chapter Six.

Once I felt a little better, I attempted to throw myself back into the daily ch.o.r.es around the Inn. The family renting the big lodge had checked out and we did not have any reservations scheduled for another two weeks. Then the fall rush would begin, and I knew I would be too busy to think about Alex, Michael, or the whole Warden thing.

I tried calling and texting Katie for several days after her abrupt departure, but she didn't return my messages. I wanted someone to blame for breaking up the relations.h.i.+p with my sister. I thought briefly of asking Alex if I could borrow his cell phone so I could call my mother and give her a piece of my mind. But what good would that do? It didn't matter that she had sent her boy toy to "help" me. She had written me off long ago.

Alex and I were keeping out of each other's way. I really wanted to ask him to leave, but he was turning out to be a lot of help around the Inn. Joe's arthritis was beginning to act up and he could only come out to help a few days a week. I was sure that I would not be able to find a decent replacement before the fall rush, so I avoided Alex as much as possible.

Occasionally, I would catch him watching me with those incredible emerald eyes. His expression was contemplative. When I would catch him glancing my way, he would find an excuse to leave the room or suddenly think of something he needed to do.

One night when I had trouble drifting off to sleep, I kept going over in my head what he had said about my mother and Michael. Questions about the whole situation made it impossible for me to relax. I needed some answers. Clenching my pillow with both fists, I realized that the one person other than my mother who might be able to help me was the vampire who I was now in charge of keeping out of trouble.

I turned on the lamp by my bed and grabbed the journal from my nightstand. After a good deal of searching through the entries written by my grandfather, I found what I needed. Snapping the journal shut, I rose from my bed and went to the window. I was about to do something that might be incredibly stupid. But I had to try to find answers.

It was 2:46 a.m. The night beckoned.

"h.e.l.lo, Michael."

He had been waiting for me under the tree, leaning against it as if he did not have a care in the world. His powerful arms were crossed and a devious grin curled his lips as he watched me. I had approached from the rarely used dirt lane that ran along the edge of the creek and came to a standstill fifty feet away from him, keeping a close eye on the distance between the boulders and me.

"You knew I was coming?"

His smile deepened, "I do have certain abilities that alert me when someone's coming my way."

"Did you see my mother before she came here?"

"Ah. So that's why you're here." He uncrossed his arms and took a few slow steps toward me. "I'm disappointed."

Fight it, Sarah. Watch the boundary line. Don't give him control. I raised my head and trained my eyes on the boulders set back from the creek.

"You turned my mother?" My voice came out tight as I tried to ignore the fire he had ignited inside me by being so close.

"I did."

"Why?"

He chuckled quietly and turned away from me. His shoulders were wide and the muscles there moved so fluidly, I found it hard to concentrate on the conversation. Especially when I accidentally let my look travel further down to the seat of his jeans. I drew in a sharp breath and pressed my fingernails into my palms.

"You're better off without her, Sarah."

"Answer the question, Michael." I hissed back.

There was a long pause before he turned back to me with a heated stare. He took two deliberate steps toward me, his fists clenched against his sides. When he spoke, his hypnotic voice was edged with steel.

"I refused in the beginning. Then she threatened to do harm to your father and both you girls if I didn't make her one of us."

I took a shaky breath, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. I did what I thought was right at the time."

My brain was suddenly struck by the idea that my mother's threat would not have mattered if Michael were the cold-blooded, calculating vampire that everyone thought he was.

"Why would my mother use that threat? You're a vampire, right? My father was your jailer. Why would it bother you to know she might harm us?"

His laugh rang out, dark and hollow in the night, "If your father died and his children with him, do you think I would ever have a chance to get out of here?"

"I don't know. n.o.body seems to be telling me very much about what I'm supposed to be doing or what the rules are. No one has explained anything to me about vampires." I crossed my arms and s.h.i.+vered as I felt the cool night air begin to seep through my jacket. I knew it was ridiculous for me to be out there, trying to get honest answers from someone who probably had centuries to perfect his lies.

"Cold?" He had moved closer, his dark silhouette looming before me like an animal about to strike. His brilliantly colored eyes narrowed and he held out his powerful arms. "I could warm you up, Sarah."

The power his voice had over me was strong. I noted again how far out I was from the boulders and took an additional couple steps back just to be sure.

He shot me a mischievous little smirk, "Ah, yes. The boundary."

He moved forward yet again, this time more slowly and gracefully than seemed possible, until he was only a foot from me. I was holding my breath but my heart was thumping like a wild drum, seeming to drown out all my other senses. Had the diagram in the journal been wrong? How else could he keep getting so close? Panic had begun burning me from the inside out, and my hands were trembling.

His rumbling laugh came rolling over me in delicious waves, "You need to relax, my dear. Given the faith you have in that mad man's journal, I would think you would understand that I am forbidden to cause you any harm."

"That depends on what kind of harm you're referring to." I said weakly. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I found the courage to look into his eyes. "What do you mean by 'mad man', anyway? I a.s.sume you're referring to my grandfather?"

"Yes. Jonathon had some issues, I hate to tell you."

"Such as?" My heart was finally slowing down its ferocious cadence.

His tone was flippant, "He had a little trouble adjusting to the idea that this piece of land had another purpose besides growing corn. I am sure my att.i.tude and threats did not give him much peace of mind either. In the end, it was the combination of alcohol and overwhelming responsibility that did him in." He retreated to the tree, sitting on a small boulder at the side of the creek and stared at the water. "I didn't mourn him. By that time, I'd developed a fragile truce with your father."

He cast a little smile at me over his shoulder, "Friends.h.i.+p can take many forms, you know."

I felt my mouth fall open. Could it be true? Forgetting my own safety, I went to stand by the tree.

"Friends.h.i.+p? Are you serious?"

"Completely. I watched him grow up. We even had several short conversations before your grandfather kicked the bucket."

I blanched at his casual disregard, "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

His head turned in my direction, and he watched my face. Before I even took another breath, he had risen from his spot. The touch of his fingers against my jaw was surprisingly warm. Far too warm for my comfort. Every fingertip that touched my skin seemed to feed me with a heat that traveled swiftly from my face down into my neck and into my chest. Painful little pinp.r.i.c.ks of sensation flooded my head and left me desperately dizzy for some solid ground.

"You're going to find a lot of things hard to believe, Sarah." he whispered sweetly. "That's one of your greatest qualities. Innocence."

His head dipped down as he took in the scent of me, seeming to draw everything of me into the core of him. I cannot recall a time I'd ever felt so helpless against my fate. So lost. We were so close. Every breath I took I shared with him. His fingers curled against my face and trailed down to my neck.

"So sweet." He murmured, the words sending tremors through my every limb.

Then I felt the firm pressure of his hands sliding against my scalp. Their grip tightened in the lengths of my hair, forcing my head back.

"Look at me." He growled, "d.a.m.n you, look at me."

I did. It was a mistake to give in to any of his demands, but this one was the worst. Because the entire field-the tree, the stones, the creek, all disappeared into nothingness. Every thought I had, every precaution I had taken floated away from me into the ebony sky when I witnessed the hunger in Michael's features. In the set of his parting lips, the angular planes of his beautiful face. And the undeniable desperation that radiated from his eyes.

It would be so easy to let go and to give him what he wanted. It would be so natural to let him take it. To take me. Then I began imagining the fallout. The tiny red warning light in my brain became a blazing neon sign. His motions ceased as he felt me begin to pull back from the fantasy. I did not want to be used as his way out. I did not want to be used at all. Cherished? Revered? Yes. But not this.

Conscious sensation rushed through my legs and arms, and I yanked myself back with a curse. I stumbled backwards away from the tree and turned down the lane that led back to the house. Surrender was not in my vocabulary, I reminded myself.

His fingers had left warm little trails across my skin that I tried to ignore as I walked to safety.

"I know you feel it, Sarah." he said.

Feeling his eyes on me, I did not look back but marched ahead.

"Go to h.e.l.l." I replied.

Chapter Seven.

His face seemed to have been permanently branded on the surface of my subconscious mind. Sleep became an impossible feat. I did not even toss and turn. I lay perfectly still; the covers gathered close around me and kept my eyes closed. However, inside, the image of him burned me. It was the last thing I wanted. Succ.u.mbing to Michael would not only put my own life in danger, but possibly Katie's as well. I knew that. Nevertheless, the need growing in me was overwhelming. It was taking over everything inside me and eating away at the edges of my good sense.

I went through my daily routine in a daze, going through the motions. One afternoon as I was peeling potatoes for dinner, Alex approached me with a worried look in his eyes. I motioned at the unpeeled potatoes in my basket. Without a word, he washed his hands at the big sink and then settled in the chair next to mine to help.

We worked quietly for a while, dropping the peelings into a double-layered paper bag between us and slipping the naked spuds into a huge bowl in the middle of the table. He was taking his time, as if he had wanted to talk.

"You've been different lately." He said quietly.

"Things on my mind." I said.

"Anything I can help with?"