Chapter 8
Daniel
My heart was in my throat as my mate jumped barefoot off the loft in the barn, her tangled hair flowing like a ribbon behind her. The moment her feet touched the ground, I moved forward on instinct, pulling her against me.
She knew what she was doing—she’d made that clear by the way she’d easily used the different pieces of furniture like a staircase—but it only took one small miscalculation to land wrong when jumping off something so high. Humans were so fucking fragile.
“You’re barefoot,” I reminded her, breathing in the scent of her hair.
“You’re wearing a gray shirt,” she replied.
I pulled back to look at her.
“I thought we were stating the obvious. You’ve got a beard. My shirt is the color of baby poop. You—”
“Very funny,” I shot back as she pulled away.
“I’ve been running barefoot over this property since I could walk,” she informed me, leading me out of the barn. “We should clean up the paint.”
“I’ll grab the brushes.” Spinning on my heel, I walked back and grabbed the filthy brushes off the dirt floor. I’d wash them so we wouldn’t have to throw them away.
When I made my way back to her, she grabbed my empty hand like she’d done it a million times before and towed me toward the front of the house. I couldn’t figure Rosemary Whitlock out.
Half the time, I felt her glaring at me like she was going to stab me, and half the time she treated me like we were an old mated couple.
She’d leaned into the mating heat like it was the most natural thing in the world, nothing to be nervous about, but she’d also put up some kind of wall between us.
It was like she was giving the appearance of letting me in, but only to a point.
I looked down at her bare toes.
“Anything could be on the ground out here,” I chastised her. “Especially in the barn.”
Rosemary just shrugged. “I’m up to date on my tetanus vaccine. Stepping on something sharp isn’t going to kill me.”
“Maybe not, but it’ll hurt like hell.”
I couldn’t read her expression as she glanced at me.
“My brother lost one of his toes by dropping an axe on it,” I told her, struggling to push past whatever the weird look was.
“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes widening. “Gnarly.”
“It wasn’t pretty.”
“And Vampires don’t regrow shit,” she pointed out, like I was unaware of that fact.
“Neither do humans.”
“Does it affect his balance?” she asked, letting go of my hand to crouch down so she could put the lid on the paint can.
“Let me do that,” I ordered, taking it from her. “No, it didn’t affect his balance. Looked pretty weird, though.”
“I bet. No sandals for him.”
I laughed, rising to my feet. “It didn’t seem to bother him much. He lost it when we were kids.”
“Multiple lifetimes with a missing toe,” she mused as she led me up the porch steps. “It’s a cruel world.”
“I’m goin’ to Dalton’s for dinner,” Gary announced as we stepped inside the house. “You two are on your own.”
“I want to go,” Rosemary gasped.
“Too bad. You weren’t invited.”
“Bullshit!”
“Stay here,” her dad ordered dryly. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge.”
“I’m calling Aunt Halle,” Rosemary replied, rolling her eyes as Gary shuffled past us. “Give me that.”
She practically tore his folded wheelchair out of his hands and stomped out of the house.
“See you in a bit,” Gary nodded to me before leaving, the old bulldog following at his heels.
I could hear them arguing outside, but I stayed just inside the house.
I knew Rosemary was getting more frustrated by the hour that she was stuck on the property, but I was glad that her father and I agreed that it was the safest place for her.
Even if by some chance the human militia discovered it existed, there were so many defensible positions that we could keep them at bay until reinforcements arrived. Gary had planned his home with purpose.
“Do you cook?” Rosemary asked as she sailed back into the house, swinging the door shut behind her.
“I can,” I replied, following her into the kitchen.
“Me too.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and huffed in annoyance. “At least we’ll never starve.”
“What do you want?” I asked, moving toward her.
“Grilled cheese,” she stated firmly. “And homemade tomato soup.”
“Sounds good,” I murmured as she stomped to the fridge.
“Wait a second,” she said, looking up at me. “Where’s your blood?”
I looked down at my body.
“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you bring blood back with you? I mean, you weren’t planning to complete the bond, right?”
“It’s in a cooler in the car,” I replied with a grimace. After we’d completed the bond, I’d completely forgotten it was there. Once a Vampire was mated, donor blood was no longer an option. It would keep us alive, barely, but only our mate’s blood could keep us healthy.
I hadn’t even thought about the blood I’d left in the car. There was a chance it was still cold, but more likely I’d just wasted hundreds of dollars.
“Whoops.”
“I forgot about it,” I said, taking the items she handed me as she searched through the fridge.
“Easy to do. It’s not like you need it now.”
She said it so easily that I was reminded again of how lucky I was that my mate understood the ins and outs of the mating bond.
There was no tiptoeing or trying to explain the finer points in a way that wouldn’t make a human woman run screaming into the night. Rosemary wasn’t surprised by any of it.
“My brother Beau went back to donor blood very briefly after he and his mate completed the bond,” I told her as I sliced cheese. “She freaked out when she found him gray and passed out on the couch.”
“Why the hell would he do that?” Rosemary asked in surprise, her mouth dropping open. “That doesn’t work.”
“He was trying to respect her wishes.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Not sure what was going on with them—I didn’t ask—but they clearly weren’t sharing blood.”
“What a bitch,” she replied, shaking her head.
I let out a huff of laughter.
“What?” she asked. “That’s a shitty thing to do.”
“It’s her choice,” I reminded my mate. “Her body.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “That’s true. Still, yikes. That must’ve been hard for both of them. It’s not like she was comfortable withholding the exchange.”
“When she found him, she cut open her wrist so he’d feed—”
Rosemary shook her head in exasperation.
“She meant well,” I said with a smile. “But my father had to stitch her up. She just expected it to close on its own if Beau licked it or something.”
She laughed. “Not quite.”
I smiled back. Gods, she was lovely.
“I can’t imagine getting saddled with a mate—”
“Hey, thanks,” I cut in.
Rosemary laughed. “Getting saddled with a mate who was completely clueless. Like everything must seem so overwhelming and strange.”
“I imagine so,” I agreed.
“Like the biting,” Rosemary continued, glancing my way. “What if I didn’t know that I needed your blood too? I’d just be in a suspended state of animation for God knew how long? Sounds like hell.”
“A Vampire would have to be raised by humans or something not to know that,” I pointed out.
“Fair enough,” she agreed. “But still. The heat and the forever and all of it? What a mindfuck for a human expecting to live like eighty years.”
“It’s an adjustment,” I agreed. “Both my sisters-in-law struggled for a while.”
“With good reason,” she said, swiping the cheese I’d cut so she could assemble the sandwiches on the stove. “Even I was shocked, and I know what it’s all about.”
“You seemed to accept it pretty quickly,” I replied, leaning against the counter to watch her.
“Well, yeah.” She kept her eyes on the stove as she answered. “Once we met, I knew it was inevitable. Fighting it would just suck for both of us. What’s the point?”
I hummed in agreement.
“It’s different for me anyway,” she said softly.
“How so?”
“I never thought I’d live long enough to see my cousins mated or meet their children or any of that,” she said, staring at the grilled cheese. Her voice grew husky. “Most of the people I love are immortal or will be.”
“But not your pop,” I replied quietly.
“But not my pop,” she confirmed, finally looking at me.
“But I always knew I’d outlive him.” She let out a huff of pained laughter.
“I mean, I hope we’re both really old when it happens, but yeah.
He was fifteen years older than my mom when they met, so he was over forty when I came along.
You’ve seen him. He’s not exactly aging gracefully. ”
“You’ve still got a lot of time,” I assured her.
“I know.” She swallowed hard. “Plus, he’ll be with my mom when he goes, and I know he’s looking forward to that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, that sounded morbid, but you know what I mean. It’s not like he’ll be alone.”
“Yeah.” Reaching out, I let my hand slide down her back.
I couldn’t imagine knowing that I would live forever, Gods willing, but I’d only have another twenty years with my parents if I were lucky.
Rosemary would live most of her life without her parents.
The first forty years would eventually be just a blip.
Grief hit me suddenly. I’d had Zeke for over a hundred years, and that still hadn’t felt like enough. And I hadn’t had to watch him grow old, his body slowly failing, his memory not quite what it used to be.
I’d never really taken the time to think about the sacrifice that human mates made when they tied their lives to ours. The benefits were too large to fully explain, but the expense was almost inconceivable. They had to watch as all the people they knew in their previous life died one by one.
Moving to her back, I wrapped my arms around Rosemary’s waist and pressed my lips to the side of her neck.
“I’m good,” she said with assurance, patting my hand. “Really. I’m fine.”
“We can live here if you want,” I said, watching as she flipped the grilled cheese and stirred the soup. “Instead of my parents’ property.”