Real Vampires Hate Skinny Jeans
Page 9

“Careful with that blood, Ian. That’s how she got inside me. Her blood seeped into my open wound.” I glared at her. “Having her in my body was hell and that’s no exaggeration.”
“Wimp.” Alesa smirked.
“Explain to me how you could get pregnant when you weren’t physically present.” Ian pulled out the needle, wiped off the puncture wound with a sterile pad, then watched as the spot healed. He nodded then carefully put away the blood-gathering gear and this time actually pulled an electronic pad out of his doctor’s bag and fired it up.
“Well…” Alesa smiled and sat back. “This is where I got really clever. I was nearing the end of my fertile time. Demons only have a certain number of years to get pregnant, you know.”
“No, I didn’t. How many would you say?” Ian began typing rapidly.
I tuned them out as they talked about demons and life in hell. I didn’t care, didn’t want to know. Because what if that was what I’d been before Jerry had turned me? No, I wouldn’t believe it. I didn’t have that sweet smell for one thing. And my blood wasn’t black sludge. Of course Rafe was part demon and he didn’t have either of those attributes. Oh, God.
A demon taint might explain why Lucifer had taken a strange fancy to me, though. No. Since I’d been turned, I’d gone to church, handled holy water, done lots of things that my buddy Rafe, kind soul that he was, wouldn’t dare. And Ian had compared my blood to Rafe’s without finding a match. Okay then. Not demon.
“I’ll do it.” Alesa shook Ian’s hand. “When?”
“Tomorrow night if the equipment gets here as promised. Penny can tell Glory where I live and work.” Ian put his pad away and turned to me. “Can you bring Alesa to my house?”
“She’s going to do the ultrasound?” I really had spaced out.
“That’s what I said. Are you driving me or do I need to get Rafael, on a busy Saturday night, to abandon his club and take me?” Alesa sighed. “He’s going to have to support a family now. I really think he should tend to his business.”
“I have a business too, you know.” I didn’t like the way my own interests were being dismissed. “Saturday is a big night for us in the shop.”
“I would have Penny bring her, but it’s her night off. She’s going to the UT football game, to see her sister on the cheerleading squad.” Ian shook his head. “Your fledgling is positively wholesome, isn’t she, Glory?”
“Gag me.” Alesa got up and walked into the kitchen. “I want chips and salsa. Sorry you two can’t join me.”
“I just bet you are. Do your eating in the kitchen.” I turned to Ian. “I’m glad Penny is going to the game. She needs to do some normal college things instead of spending her whole life hunched over a microscope.” I rubbed the back of my neck, tight with strain. This whole thing—Alesa here, worrying about Rafe, not to mention thinking about how Jerry was going to take my working with Ian—was giving me another headache. “I’ll arrange things so I can take Alesa.”
“Great. You obviously are feeling the stress of this and your other situation.” Ian nodded toward the kitchen. “I won’t mention it here but with Aggie’s sample and now Alesa’s, I feel I’m close to the truth about you.” He opened his black bag. “Don’t suppose I can interest you in a pain reliever for that headache.” He held out a packet with a pill inside.
“No, no drugs.” I rolled my neck. “And I’m still not interested in Clarity either.” There was a noise outside the door. Thumps, groans, then the door crashed open.
“What the hell is going on here?” Jerry strode over, not waiting for Ian to move. He knocked the packet out of Ian’s hand then shoved him against the wall. A picture I’d really liked fell to the floor, the frame cracking. “Trying to drug her again, MacDonald?”
“Jerry, stop!” I jumped up and landed behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Ian’s here as a doctor. Stop acting like a Campbell and listen to me.”
Ian threw Jerry’s hands off of him. “Listen to you? That’s too reasonable for a man like Jeremiah Campbell. No, I forget. Jeremy Blade. That’s the asinine name you gave yourself a century ago.” Ian laughed. “Can’t say I blame you. Who wouldn’t want to be shed of the Campbell curse?”
“Why you—” Jerry lunged, but I got between them.
“I said stop. You’re in my home. My rules. Remember?” I looked up and touched his face. “Both of you. No feuds here. If you wish to kill each other, take it outside. But I need you both, so do me a favor and shelve this ancient animosity.”
“Gloriana, you heard him insult me and my family. Am I to just allow that?” Jerry showed all his teeth and fangs. “The man is asking for a beat-down.”
“Seems like you took care of your aggressions on his guards. That was not well done of you, Jerry.” I turned my back on him.
“Ian, it was not well done of you to taunt him that way. And there’s no Campbell curse that I know of. Jerry’s always been proud of his family and his name. We all change our names from time to time. It’s what an immortal has to do.” I saw Ian’s jaw flex. He glanced over to where his guards had pulled themselves together and waited in the doorway, obviously for a signal to attack Jerry. Three to one. The odds were terrible.
“He never told you of the curse? I’ll leave it to him to explain. And ask him about your blood. See what he says. Should be interesting.” Ian gave Jerry a smile that made Jerry growl Gaelic obscenities I’d heard before. “Until tomorrow night, Gloriana. Come around ten and don’t bring Campbell with you.” Ian pushed past us, picked up his bag and headed out the door.
“Wow. The testosterone level in here is off the charts and the yelling’s not good for the baby.” Alesa yawned. “I’m going to lie down for a while. Rafe is picking me up after the club closes. About three he said. So can I collapse in the fledgling’s bed till then?” Alesa headed down the hall. “Why am I asking? I’m doing it anyway. You two obviously need to talk. A curse? How ridiculous.” Alesa laughed.
“Is it? Ridiculous?” I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of synthetic. Jerry was right behind me. He shook his head when I offered him one. Right. He still preferred a live donor. Obviously he’d had a drink on his way over.
“Of course it’s ridiculous. The MacDonalds hired an old witch centuries ago to lay a curse on my family. It caused some of my kin to do things out of character.” Jerry ran a hand through his hair. “Power of suggestion. Obviously. It was about that time that my parents began having trouble in their marriage, went their separate ways for almost a century. Then one of my brothers was killed in a skirmish with the MacDonalds. Sheep died. A well went dry. Of course everyone with a superstitious bent blamed the curse. Taken individually, these things happen. Put together, the MacDonalds took credit, claiming their curse had done its job.”
“Well, I guess one more coincidence was that you changed your name.” I took my drink to the living room and sat on the couch. I quickly jumped up again and opened the windows, letting the cool fall air get rid of the demon stench.
“It was a coincidence. I had used the same identity too long.” Jerry sat beside me and took my hand. “I’ve never been ashamed of my family or afraid of some stupid hag’s curse.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like you.” I took a drink.
“I also went to London and met you. That certainly turned out better than all right. No curse there.” Jerry smiled and kissed my knuckles.
“Of course not.” I was putting off asking him the big question. “That was quite a scene with Ian. I have a headache, but I wasn’t about to take the pill he offered me for it.”
“MacDonald’s guards tried to keep me out. Were going to toss me down the stairs.” Jerry frowned. “You didn’t think I was going to meekly accept that, did you?”
“No!” I dropped my bottle on a coaster and grabbed Jerry’s thigh. “I’m sorry, Jer. That was not well done of Ian. He has to know you are always welcome here.”
He put his hand over mine. “I’ll always distrust a MacDonald, there’s too much history there. But I wouldn’t want you upset, Gloriana.”
“Thanks, Jerry. But…” I had so much to tell him and he had plenty to tell me. “I need to know something. Tell me all about how it was when you first saw me. Back in London. What attracted you to me? How did I appear?”
“This is an odd subject. Trying to keep me from getting on you about having that demon here?” Jerry lifted my hand to his lips and nibbled the sensitive skin between my thumb and my forefinger.
“No. I offered to handle this for Rafe. My choice. Now humor me. Refresh my memory.” I smiled at him and leaned against his arm. He had on a soft black sweater and it suited him. His jeans were worn and hugged his strong legs. Even his boots were masculine, a rough brown suede probably scuffed when he’d kicked Ian’s guards out of his way.
“I noticed you at the Globe backstage helping with costumes. I’d come to see a play and went to pay my compliments to Shakespeare.”
“I remember seeing you there.” Who wouldn’t have noticed the man in a kilt? He was so handsome in a dark, slightly dangerous way. He’d shed much of his Scottish accent since, but back then he’d spoken with a burr that had enchanted me.
“And I saw you, always busy. I liked the golden color of your hair and the generous shape of your body. Will said you’d been trying to talk him into putting you on the stage in a minor part. Against the law, of course, but bribes in the right quarter took care of that and audiences loved to see an occasional female on the stage.” Jerry had his finger wound around one of my curls. I’d let my hair grow long again and he liked it that way.