Chapter Thirty-One
Conor went to see his parents that same night. Taking the chair across from the sofa, he took a deep breath. And then, in a voice curiously devoid of emotion, he told them what had happened, and then sat back. Glancing from one to the other, he said, “What do you think I should do now?”
“If you really care for her, I think you should keep trying,” Kadie said.
Saintcrow nodded. “I agree. Where would I be today if I’d believed your mother when she said she hated me?”
“I did hate you,” Kadie insisted. “With a passion.”
Saintcrow laughed. “It was your passion that got you into trouble.”
“Rylan! What a thing to say! And in front of our son.”
“He’s old enough to appreciate it,” Saintcrow remarked, winking at Conor. “You could always mesmerize Bryn and make her believe she loves you.”
“No way!” Conor exclaimed, horrified by the very idea. “Wait a minute. Is that what you did to Mom?”
“Hell, no. She fought me all the way and I loved it.” Saintcrow slid his arm around Kadie’s shoulders. “So did she.”
“It won’t be easy, but you’ll have to convince her that you’re still the same man you were,” Kadie said.
“If she really cares for you, she should be willing to give your relationship a chance. But you need to be patient with her. After all, deciding to tie your life to a vampire’s isn’t an easy decision to make.
There are a lot more adjustments to make than normal people have to contend with. ”
Conor nodded glumly. He was dead to the world when the sun was up. He didn’t eat. He couldn’t give her children. She would grow old and he wouldn’t. Damn. His mother must have really loved Saintcrow to put up with all that.
“There are pluses,” Saintcrow reminded him.
Conor stared at him. “You reading my mind?”
Saintcrow shrugged.
“What pluses?”
“Well, you can take her anywhere in the world she wants to go in the blink of an eye. If you give her a little of your blood from time to time, the aging process will slow down. She’ll never have to take care of an old man, or arrange a funeral, or....” He yelped when Kadie punched him in the arm.
“That isn’t funny,” she said. “And I’m sure Bryn wouldn’t think so, either. Conor, it all comes down to love and what you’re willing to sacrifice to have it. The best thing you can do is call her and see if she’s willing for the two of you to get to know each other better.”
“There are a lot of women in the world,” Saintcrow remarked. “If she turns you down, you won’t have trouble finding another one.”
“I don’t want another one.” Conor slammed his fist on the arm of the chair so hard that the wood cracked.
“Sorry, Mom. Dammit, if I’d waited another week to be turned, there wouldn’t be any problem now.
” On the other hand, maybe it was best that he hadn’t waited.
It was easier to break a relationship than a marriage.
~ * ~
In the next few days, Bryn tensed every time the phone rang, always afraid it would be Conor.
Always afraid it wouldn’t be. She didn’t know what to do.
She liked him far more than any of the other men she had dated.
She’d never fantasized about what it would be like to make love to any of them, never yearned for their kisses or hungered for their touch, never missed them when they were gone.
But Conor... She thought of him constantly.
Mr. Cummings had commented on her distracted state and asked if she needed a few days off.
She had assured him she was fine, and then wished she had taken him up on his offer.
Maybe a vacation in Morgan Creek...She still had trouble believing Conor was a vampire, but why would he lie about such a horrible thing?
And if it wasn’t true, how had he survived a gunshot to the heart?
Or transported her from Morgan Creek to Vermont in the blink of an eye? So many questions....
She let out a cry as the kitchen filled with smoke. Grabbing a dish cloth, she removed the pan that held her dinner from the stove and set it on a hot pad, then opened the kitchen window. One of these days she was going to be building castles in the air and set the apartment on fire.
Sighing, she went into the living room and sank down on the sofa. What was she going to do about Conor Saintcrow? She jumped when her cell phone beeped, felt her heart do a crazy little dance when she saw his name. Her hand was shaking when she answered. “Hello.”
“Hey. I happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d give you a call.”
“Just happened to be?”
“Okay, I wanted to be near you. I miss you. Any chance we can go out for a drink?”
Her mind whispered no. Her heart cried yes! Her common sense said don’t be a fool.
“Bryn?”
“Are you really a...a vampire?”
He hesitated a long moment before answering, “Yes.” He blew out a sigh. “Please give me a chance. You must know I’d never hurt you. Please, Bryn?”
The husky, almost reverent way he said her name melted the last of her resistance. “All right.”
“Shall I pick you up?”
“If you want.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “I’m outside your door.”
Nervous and eager, she fought down her trepidation and went to let him in.
For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. And then he took her in his arms. “Bryn, I’m crazy about you. I can’t think of anything else. Only you. Please give us a chance.”
She didn’t answer, just went up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. His arms tightened around her as he kissed her back.
Bryn laughed softly when they came up for air. “Conor, I can’t breathe.”
“What? Oh.” He loosened his hold on her but didn’t let go. “Sorry. Guess I don’t know my own strength. Do you still want to go out for a drink?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “But I think it’s a good idea.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Her bedroom was way too close and she was way too desirable.
They went to a small, neighborhood nightclub. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked.
“Maybe some fries.”
He ordered their drinks and fries at the bar, his nose wrinkling at the myriad smells that assaulted his senses as he returned to their table.
How long did it take to get used to the stench?
To the constant barrage of noise? How long before he learned to tune out all the distractions?
Saintcrow kept telling him to give it time, that adjusting would be more difficult and take longer if he hadn’t been turned by an ancient vampire.
“Aren’t you having any?” Bryn asked as she reached for a couple of fries.
“Vampires don’t eat.”
She lifted one brow. “But...you ate rigatoni. I saw you.”
“Did you?”
“Didn’t I?”
He shook his head. “I made you believe I’d eaten.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I guess you could call it a form of hypnotism.”
“You hypnotized me!” The very idea sent a shiver down her spine.
Conor shifted in his chair, suddenly ill at ease. This was not going as he’d hoped.
“Conor?”
“I’m sorry, but there was no way to explain why I didn’t eat without....”
“Without telling me the truth.” She finished the thought for him.
“Being a vampire is complicated sometimes.” And never more so than now, he thought, wondering if he’d lost all hope of seeing her again.
Bryn pushed the fries away, her appetite gone. They were so different now. How would they bridge the gap between them? “Conor, what are we going to do?”
He reached for her hand, so small in his own. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “I love you. I think I loved you from the moment I first saw you. Give us a chance, Brynlee. Give me a chance.”
“It will never work as long as I’m human,” she said, blinking back her tears. “You know it won’t.”
“Are you willing to give it a try? Give us a try?”
If she said no, she knew she would never see him again. Would she rather have Conor, even as a vampire, or not at all?
She looked at their joined hands, his so large and strong, hers smaller, weaker.
“Bryn.” His voice caressed her, husky with the emotions churning inside him.
She looked into his eyes and was overcome with the thought that he needed her. A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Will you be in town long?”
His smile went straight to her heart. “As long as you want.”
~ * ~
Bryn spent Saturday morning at her computer, looking up everything she could find about vampires.
She was amazed at the number of books about vampire lore, the hundreds, maybe thousands, of websites dedicated to vampires and the supernatural.
Every country had its own beliefs and myths.
She wondered how much of what she read was factual.
Surely it couldn’t all be true. Vampires were strong.
They were almost indestructible. They could move from place to place faster than the human eye could see.
They could change shape, turn into mist, climb up a wall like a spider, become invisible.
They had the power to compel people to do their will, to read minds.
... That gave her pause. Conor had read her mind.
Had he made her do things she didn’t remember?
Shaking the disturbing thought away, she read on.
Silver and holy water burned their flesh.
Sunlight, beheading, or a stake in the heart could kill them.
Overwhelmed by so much information, much of which she’d rather not know, she sat back in her chair and took a deep breath, wondering, once again, how much of what she’d read could possibly be true. There was, she thought, one sure way to find out. She could just ask a vampire.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she went to the online phone directory and looked up Saintcrow. There were no listings. She tapped her fingers on the desk top, and then called the number for the Morgan Creek Hotel. If his father owned the town, someone was bound to know where to find him.
~ * ~
Saintcrow glanced at his phone. The number was unfamiliar but something told him to answer it anyway. “Saintcrow here.”
“Hello.” The voice was female and nervous as hell.
“Who is this?”
A long pause. “Brynlee Davis. I’m dating your son.”
Saintcrow’s brows shot up. Few things surprised him these days but this was far and away the most unexpected call he’d ever received. “What can I do for you, Miss Davis?”
“I have a lot of questions about...you know.”
“I’m sure you do. But you should be talking to Conor, not me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I’m afraid he won’t be totally honest with me.”
Saintcrow grunted. “Afraid he’ll skirt the truth to make it more palatable?”
“Something like that. We’ve only known each other a short time but I’m falling in love with him. Before it goes any further, I want to know what I’m dealing with. Today, I read a lot of stuff online about vampires. I need to know how much of it’s true.”
“Maybe we should do this face to face.”
Bryn glanced around the room, totally taken aback by the thought of meeting Conor’s father.
“What do you say?”
“I...I don’t know.” Before she could make up her mind, there was a knock at the door.
Murmuring, “Hang on a minute,” she went to answer it. And came face to face with a man she knew immediately was Conor’s father. “How did you know where I lived?”
“Conor told me. May I come in?”
He was tall, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped. And as intimating as hell, with his long black hair and piercing dark eyes. The same kind of power that surrounded Conor emanated from this man, only it was much stronger. Summoning her courage, she took a step back. “Come in.”
Saintcrow followed her into the living room, sat down at her invitation. “The first thing you need to know about vampires,” he said, after she was seated, “is that we can’t enter a home without an invitation, and we’re compelled to leave if asked to.”
“Good to know,” she muttered.
“I turned Conor,” Saintcrow said, leaning back in the chair. “He’s wanted to be a vampire his whole life. It’s unfortunate that he didn’t wait a little longer. He loves you.”
“I know. Are all the things I read true?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what you read, but this is the truth.
Young vampires can’t abide sunlight. They must have blood to survive but the need lessens as they age.
Silver and holy water will burn them. They must rest during the day.
Conor will not be compelled to shun the sunlight as long as most, since he carries my blood. Our injuries heal immediately.”
Bryn gasped, remembering the night Conor was shot.
“He told me about that,” Saintcrow said. “I’m sure it caused you a great deal of unease.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Go on.”
“We can change shape and turn into mist; that is true. There are only a few ways to kill a vampire. None of them are pleasant. There are vampires who are truly monsters, who thrive on killing and destruction. There are vampires like my wife, who lack the innate instinct to hunt or to kill. And there is Conor, sired by an ancient vampire, which lessens his violent tendencies to a great extent.”
Bryn stared at him, her mind reeling.
“It is a lot to take in,” Saintcrow remarked. “There is one more thing. Vampires don’t age.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Conor will always look as he is now, a young man in the prime of life.”
She sat back, shoulders slumped. When Conor was eighty, he would still look twenty-five. She didn’t even want to think about how she would look.
“There are two ways around it,” Saintcrow said quietly. “If you drink a little of his blood from time to time, it will greatly slow the aging process, or–”
She held up her hand, certain she knew what he was about to say. “It’s out of the question.”
“It isn’t a bad life,” Saintcrow said. “Being a vampire is as good or as bad as you make it, just like mortality.”
“How....how old are you?”
“Roughly, a thousand years.”
She blinked at him. One. Thousand. Years. She couldn’t comprehend such a thing. She might live to be eighty, maybe ninety, a few people lived to be a hundred or more, but a thousand? It was inconceivable.
“Think about it carefully. I know many women who have let their men turn them. To my knowledge, all of them would do it again.” He smiled at her. “My wife, Kadie, is one of them.” He stood in a single, fluid motion. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Davis. I hope you and Conor can work things out.”
Bryn remained seated, afraid her legs wouldn’t support her if she tried to stand. “It was...ah...nice meeting you, too,” she said. “A little scary, but nice.”
With a nod, Saintcrow moved toward the door. “I think Conor could make you happy for a lifetime – or longer – if you give him the chance,” he said, before he left her apartment.
“Happy, or a vampire?” Bryn muttered. “Is it possible to be both?”