Taken by a Vampire
Page 13

 Joey W. Hill

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

She straightened, lips tightening. “There was no need for her to grieve. It was a great honor to be chosen, and they were compensated. They can live well for the rest of their lives, send all the rest of their children to college.”
“Except you.” Christ, it was like she was brainwashed.
“My training exceeds that of most college educations in the required subject areas.” She gave him an intelligent, shrewd look, not the vacant stare of an indoctrinated drone. That almost made it worse. “What I am shouldn’t distress you, Niall, because it certainly doesn’t me. I embraced being a servant fully, with no regrets. Didn’t you?”
Something in his expression must have alerted her, for she stopped. “My apologies. That’s a very personal thing. I wasn’t trying to pry.”
“I started it.” Truth, but he still couldn’t help the ugly twist in his gut. He nodded toward the centerpiece. She’d taken a discarded magazine, cut strips out of colorful ads and turned them into decorative curlicues around the glasses holding the flowers and votives. “This is pretty, but not necessary. Even if he had showed for dinner.”
“It’s important for a servant to make her vampire’s home inviting for him at all times,” she said, Miss Emily Post of the vampire world. “Even if he doesn’t come to dinner, everything is prepared as if he will be there. So when and if he comes, he knows his needs have been uppermost in the servant’s mind.”
“He’s not a bloody Council vampire.”
“He doesn’t have to be.” She looked genuinely puzzled. “It’s part of the core tenets of our service to any vampire.”
“Fine.” He scooped up stew, shoveled a bite in his mouth, chewed, staring at those flickering candles. Then he picked up the origami bird perched next to his water glass and crumpled it, wiping his mouth on the paper.
“I’m no vampire. I don’t need that kind of nonsense.” Picking up his plate and water, he left her there, shoving open the screen door with his foot. He’d eat out there, where there was more air to breathe.
Alanna folded her hands in her lap to conceal their tremor, not sure how to react. Staring at Niall’s broad back as he took a seat at the picnic table, she felt like she needed to say she was sorry, but she wasn’t sure for what. It wasn’t about him or her. All the settings needed to look properly prepared. What was wrong with that?
Despite the fact that her stomach now had a cold ball inside of it, she ate her stew. He’d reduced the wild game taste with a good marinade, but she could already imagine different herbs or mushrooms that might add to it. If she set some of her own stew aside, she could experiment with it. When he was in an improved mood, or when she came to know him somewhat better, she could make her suggestions then.
The cleaned and dressed kills in the refrigerator told her Niall was a capable subsistence hunter in their mountain environment, but, like many carnivorous males, he obviously didn’t see much need for anything beyond meat and potatoes. Henry’s store had a produce stand with locally grown vegetables and fruits. She could supplement and expand the menu, offer different tastes and textures, which might also bring Evan to the table more often.
Perhaps she was treating Evan like the type of vampire he wasn’t, but she had to be useful. If not, she would go mad.
Right after his meal, Niall came in to dump the plate in the sink and mentioned checking on something for Evan. He said he would be back by sunset. He didn’t invite her to come. Feeling shunned, and wanting to quell the self-serving feeling, Alanna put Evan’s unused place setting away, and washed the dishes she and Niall had used. Changing out of the soft shirt she wore for dinner, she put on her new long-sleeved tee over her cargo pants and braided her hair into a thick tail. Then she sat back down with her plant book.
Perhaps she’d eaten too much stew, because she found her eyelids drooping, the day catching up with her. As she struggled to keep reading, she realized she missed Niall’s company.
A touch on her shoulder woke her instantly, but Niall’s fingers tightened before she could jump up. “It’s all right, lass. You dozed off for a bit. We’re getting ready to go, and I wanted ye to have time to wake up. Feel like putting together some provisions for us?”
“Yes, certainly.” She flushed as she scrambled to her feet, the book dropping from her lap. It was full dark outside, suggesting she’d done more than nod off. As Niall retrieved the book, he gave her an appraising look. “If your clothes didn’t have the smell of Henry’s store, you’d pass for a seasoned hiker. Put water in your backpack, as well as the Band-Aids and a snack or two. You might take a couple o’ books to pass the time. If Evan doesnae need us, I’ll take ye for a hike.”
She was even more disconcerted to see Evan leaning against the kitchen counter. He was wearing fitted cargo pants similar to Niall’s, and a button-down shirt. The cotton fabric was relaxed enough that the open neckline showed a generous line of his chest. He gave her an absent nod, his mind obviously already on the subject matter ahead and the camera equipment he was checking.
Once she packed the backpack, she stayed out of the way. She wasn’t a fluttering bird when she didn’t know what to do. Instead, she noted how Niall arranged the equipment in a much larger pack, going through a mental checklist to ensure he had everything needed. Evan did something similar, rechecking the items that would be most important to him. Though she picked up that there was some urgency to arriving at a certain time at their destination, Evan could get lost in whatever he was doing, whether it was studying some earlier films, considering lens options or thinking about choices of lighting. However, Niall anticipated him, keeping the vampire moving with prodding comments and of course having everything ready when Evan finally closed his case and latched it.
In her experience, an undercurrent of deference always existed between vampire and servant. It might be taught, like with an InhServ, but it was also something instinctual, something in the respective natures of the human and vampire that created that sense of servant and Master. With Niall and Evan, it was more elusive. The two men were well-synced, though, so familiar with each other their movements seemed choreographed. When Niall placed something in the pack and Evan reached under his arm for another lens, Niall automatically shifted to give him room. Evan noted something about the schedule while Niall shrugged in response, without glancing his way.
It was . . . intriguing. A puzzle. So intriguing she almost missed her own cue. They’d gone out into the yard, and now Niall was looking for her. “Alanna? Time to go.”
There was impatience in his tone, as if he expected to have to pull her away from flower gathering or some such female nonsense. When she came out promptly, his brow smoothed, however. He put her in the passenger seat while Evan took the back, where he started scribbling some notes and calculations on a pad he had spread open on the seat. Niall put the vehicle in gear, and they were headed up the mountain in the moonlight.
The road was still a deer path, so Niall moved at a crawl over the bumpy terrain, paying attention to the faint ruts that marked the road, twisting and turning through the trees. When they passed through sudden openings, she glimpsed the mountain view before the trees closed in once more. She studied the patterns of the leaves that slid along the glass, reaching up to follow them with her fingertips. On one of them she saw a green bug of some kind, valiantly continuing to chew on his evening meal even as it rippled across the surface of the window. Looking ahead, she caught the flash of red in a deer’s eyes as the doe lifted her head then moved out of the track without hurry. A moment later, Alanna drew in a breath as a stag bounded out of the trees, touched down directly in front of the Rover’s grill, and then, with one leap, cleared the foliage on the other side and disappeared again.
“Wow,” she breathed. Niall gave her a sidelong glance and a half smile, then returned his attention to the road.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was an arse.”
She shook her head, denying the need for the apology, but it made something loosen in her chest, especially when he reached out, touched her knee. Glancing behind her, she saw Evan still writing. It reminded her of Lord Brian’s preoccupation with his research, how often Debra handled communication because he was deep in his head. “Don’t be fooled,” Niall advised. “He doesn’t miss anything.”
“No, I don’t,” Evan said, not looking up. “You acting like an ass is such a common occurrence, I didn’t figure it required any comment on my part.”
Niall shifted gears, making the Rover jump and rev with a brief spurt of gas. Alanna saw Evan lift his pencil a mere second before it happened, preventing a jagged slash across his paper, then he calmly went back to scribbling. “I think you just underscored my point.”
“Numpty.” Niall snorted.
“Best you can do? Noshech kariot.”
“That part’s mostly your fault, isn’t it? Och, weel, you wur brocht up mair refainit than me then.” Niall nodded out the window. “Look, Alanna.”
She jerked her astounded attention to the front again, in time to see a possum scurrying across their path. It paused, baring its yellowed teeth in a hiss, then continued across.
“During the birthing season, she might have a wee one or two clinging to her, if they’re not inclined to ride in her pouch. The bairns are cute as kittens. The adults are almost as cantankerous as I am.” Seeing her blank look, he grinned. “Numpty is the Scots term for idiot. He called me a pillow biter in Hebrew. I think you can figure out the rest.”
She wasn’t sure she could.
A few moments later, Niall turned off into another small clearing, this one ringed with trees that hid the mountain view. “We hike from here,” he advised.
The men donned the two large backpacks holding the equipment, Niall refusing to let her carry anything but the small pack with snacks and her chosen book. “You’ll have enough to do, keeping pace,” he promised, and he was right.