Runaway Vampire (23 page)

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Authors: Lynsay Sands

BOOK: Runaway Vampire
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Mary relaxed and nodded with relief. That was definitely the smarter route, she thought, as he began to kiss her again. She kissed him back this time, her body coming alive at once, but when he broke their kiss to lean back and begin tugging at the blanket and sheets covering her, she asked, “So you have protection?”

Dante glanced to her with confusion, and his voice was distracted when he asked, “Protection?”

“A condom?” Mary explained as he turned his attention back to removing the coverings between them. She pointed out, “It's not like I'm on birth control or anything.”

“Oh.” Dante murmured with a nod as he finally got the blankets and sheets out of the way.

Mary relaxed at his nod that he had protection, and
smiled faintly as his gaze moved hungrily over her in the white cotton nightgown.

“We—” Dante began as he reached toward her breast, but whatever would have followed was pushed aside by a groan as his hand closed over the soft globe and he squeezed, sending shivers of pleasure through them both.

“We what?” Mary gasped, arching into the caress.

“Yes,” he muttered and covered her mouth with his again, his kiss almost violent with need.

Mary responded in kind, her body quickly melting beneath his touch and kiss. The man was fire to her tinder, sending her up in flames with just a touch. She had never experienced anything like it before. She'd thought her marital bed a satisfying one before she and Joe had had their problems, and after they'd sorted them. But he had never lifted her to these heights, even after loads of foreplay. Mary knew it had to be a chemical reaction, and most definitely a result of something to do with the nanos. It was the only explanation for this madness, she thought faintly, as Dante shifted to his knees, and lifted her to her own without breaking their kiss.

His hands were immediately everywhere. Sliding down her back to urge her forward until she knelt between his spread knees and they were chest to chest. His hands then slid down to cup her behind and squeeze eagerly, before gliding up and around to find her breasts.

Mary moaned, and arched and shifted into each touch and caress, then broke their kiss and cried out when his hands suddenly dropped again, this time to
slip under her nightgown. One hand slid up to cup her between the legs, while the other slid around to cover both of her bare cheeks in his big hand so that he could urge her to move into his caress.

“God, Mary,” Dante muttered against her cheek, his fingers beginning to explore the damp heat that waited for him.

“I want your clothes off,” Mary moaned against his shoulder, and then gasped and began pulling at the cloth herself as he found her sweet spot. “Please.”

Cursing, Dante retrieved his hands and quickly tugged his T-shirt up and off over his head.

“Your pants,” Mary said breathlessly, when he started to reach for her again.

Dante was immediately off the bed, undoing and pushing his pants down.

“Where are the condoms?” she asked as he raised one foot and started to push the black denim off of it.

Turning, she opened the bed table drawer to see if there might be any there. There weren't and she turned back to ask if they might be in his wallet, or one of the other drawers, but paused when she saw that he had frozen, standing exactly as she'd last seen him, on one foot, bent over to push the cloth off. Except for the confusion on his face, he looked like a stork.

“You do have a condom?” Mary asked with a frown.

Dante shook his head, his expression blank.

“But you said you did.” Mary said with accusation, and then her eyebrows drew together and she added, “At least, you nodded.”

“Did I?” he frowned now too, obviously trying to
recall, then relaxed and smiled faintly. “I nodded that I understood. But I was going to explain that we do not need them, and then got distracted.”

Mary recalled him starting to say, “We,” and then pausing on a groan. She'd then asked, “We what?” But she couldn't remember whether he'd said anything then or not. She'd been a bit distracted by what he was doing. Apparently they both had been.

Taking a deep breath to try to ease some of the excitement still rushing through her body, she said, “What do you mean we do not need one? Of course we do, Dante. You said I can get pregnant now and we agreed we were not ready for that.”

“Yes, but no,” he said at once and she blinked in confusion. Fortunately, he continued, “I mean, yes you no doubt can get pregnant now, but no, you probably will not.”


Probably?
” Mary asked grimly, arching one eyebrow.

Dante frowned slightly, and straightened, setting his foot back on the ground. His black jeans were still pooled around his ankles as he explain earnestly, “Mary, your body is still going through the turn, which has no doubt suffered something of a setback thanks to the accident. It is not likely it could support a child just now.”

“It's not
likely
?” she asked archly.

Grimacing, he sat down on the side of the bed, and took her hand. “For an immortal woman to become pregnant, she has to take in a lot of blood. More than she usually would need to take in. Otherwise the nanos
will see the fetus as a threat to their getting the blood they need and will abort it.”

“I've been taking in an awful lot of blood,” she pointed out.

“Yes, yes,” Dante agreed waving the issue away with one hand in the same moment. “But that will all be taken up to finish the turn and repair the damage from the accident,” he explained. “It is highly unlikely that you could get pregnant right now.”

“Highly unlikely,” she said slowly, and then raised one eyebrow and asked, “But not impossible?”

“Well . . .” Dante hesitated, and then his shoulders drooped. “You are going to insist on a condom.”

“Yes,” she said dryly.

“Right,” Dante muttered and stood to pull his pants up, then headed for the door, muttering, “I shall be back directly.”

Mary lay back on the bed with a sigh. If someone had told her that birth control would be an issue for her at sixty-two, she would have laughed in their face. “Who knew?” she muttered with disgust.

Sixteen

D
ante hurried up the hall and then jogged downstairs, wracking his brain for a way to get condoms. Buying them was the obvious answer, but while it was only 7:30 in the evening and most stores would be open right now, the Enforcer House was in the country, a good fifteen minutes from the nearest store. He really didn't want to wait that long to get back to Mary.

Perhaps one of the men would have condoms, he thought and grimaced even as the possibility struck him. That just wasn't likely. Certainly Russell and Francis wouldn't have them. And Mortimer and his life mate Samantha were apparently hoping to get pregnant, so they wouldn't have them. Hell, most immortals wouldn't. They knew all they had to do to guard against pregnancy was not overindulge in blood. But Mary wasn't willing to take that chance because she
had to take in so much blood just now. He understood, but it was frustrating as hell.

Maybe Mortimer kept condoms on hand for guests who stayed at the Enforcer House, Dante thought suddenly. The man had recently taken to ensuring they had most things an unexpected guest might need: everything from clothes in various sizes to shoes, extra vehicles—even brand-new toothbrushes and toothpaste still in their packaging. Condoms might also be on that list, Dante thought hopefully, as he stepped off the stairs and turned into the kitchen.

He was hoping to find Mortimer in there, since that was where the head of the enforcers had been when Dante had gone upstairs. However, he wasn't, and the first person he ran into on his quest for condoms was Mortimer's wife, Samantha. The sight of her made him pause abruptly several feet into the room.

“Oh, hello, Dante,” the slender woman said with a smile when she glanced up from the pot she was stirring and spotted him. “How is Mary? Is she hungry? I made some soup.”

“Er . . . no,” Dante murmured, backing toward the doorway. When her eyebrows went up at his strange behavior, he added, “I was looking for Mortimer.”

“He, Bricker, and Lucian went into his study,” she said, and then added, “I'm sure they won't mind you interrupting. Although if there's something you need that I can help with—”

“No!” Dante barked with dismay, and then forced a smile and said more calmly, “Thank you, but it is better I talk to Mortimer.”

“Okay,” Samantha said easily, glancing down into the pot she was stirring. But as he left the room he could have sworn he heard her murmur, “No glove, no love, huh?”

Assuring himself that he must have misheard her, Dante hurried along the hall toward Mortimer's study. He could hear them talking before he reached the door, but was distracted enough he didn't bother really listening. He also didn't wait for a response after knocking at the door, but simply opened it and walked in.

Mortimer, Lucian, and Bricker were all there, as Samantha had said. They were standing around Mortimer's desk, looking at a map of some kind. All three glanced up with mild curiosity at his entrance.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dante muttered and then focused on Mortimer and began, “I just wanted to ask if you have gloves.”

“Gloves?” Mortimer asked with surprise. “Sure. There should be some—”

“Oh, sorry, not gloves,” Dante said with a frown, realizing what he'd said. His mind must still have been on what he'd thought he heard Samantha say.

“He means condoms,” Bricker said with amusement, apparently reading his mind where Mortimer obviously hadn't. Grinning, the young hunter said, “No unwrapped stags between Mary's legs, huh?”

“What?” Dante asked, his voice choked with shock.

“She wants you to cuff your carrot, before you share it?” Bricker suggested and when Dante just stared at him blankly, he added, “You have to sock that wanger before you bang her?”

“Bricker,” Mortimer said with exasperation.

But Justin just added, “Got no protection? Can't use your erection?”

“The internet?” Lucian asked dryly.

Pausing, Justin Bricker grinned at the man and said, “Yeah. They have loads of sayings: hide old Harry, then take her cherry. Wrap that pickle, then slip her a tickle. If you can't shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket. Don't make a mistake; cover your snake. Cover your stump before you hump. Don't be a fool—”

“Truly, Justin,” Lucian interrupted grimly. “The subject of your internet searches really worries me sometimes.”

“What?” Bricker asked with surprise. “Why?”

“The fact that you have to even ask me that question also worries me,” Lucian said dryly. “First cocks, now condoms. What is next?”

“Well, I did come across this site that has—”

“I do not want to know,” Lucian interrupted shortly, and then glanced to Dante. “You said Mary was a psychologist before she retired?”

Dante nodded, surprised and a little confused by the question until Lucian said, “Then perhaps you could ask her to have a session or two with Bricker while she is here.”

“Ha ha,” Justin said dryly.

Lucian ignored him and added, “I shall pay for them out of my own pocket just to ensure he is well enough to be on the job . . . and carrying a weapon.”

“I shall mention it to her,” Dante said, amusement replacing his dismay.

“Hardy har, har,” Justin said dryly. “I drag myself away from my hot and sexy Holly to help out around here, and this is the appreciation I get?”

“Mary is a new life mate,” Mortimer pointed out as if Justin hadn't spoken. “It might be better to call Lissianna's husband, Greg. He is a psychologist, is he not?”

“Good thinking,” Lucian decided, pulling out his phone. “I shall call him now. In the meantime, Justin, drive Dante to the nearest store that would carry condoms.”

“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. Leading the way to the door, he added, “I'll check the sense of humor aisle while I'm there and see if I can get you both one.”

“Check the brain aisle as well,” Lucian suggested. “I suspect you left yours there the last time you were shopping.”

Justin paused abruptly with his hand on the door and turned to stare at Lucian with amazement. “Did you just make a joke?”

“No,” Lucian said firmly.

“Yes, you did,” Justin countered, grinning. “It wasn't a very good one, but you made a joke, Lucian. Holy shit, I never thought I'd see the day.” Pulling the door open, he walked out into the hall, shaking his head, and crooned, “Lucian Argeneau, cracking jokes. Well, I never!”

Dante stared after the man and then glanced back to Lucian, his eyebrows rising.

“Go ahead,” Lucian said on a sigh. “He is an idiot, but a good lad despite that.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Dante muttered and hurried out of the room after the other man.

M
ary was out of bed and staring out the bedroom window when Dante returned from his quest for condoms.

“I have them,” he said triumphantly, holding up the bag holding the items as he entered.

Mary glanced to the bag, but then asked, “Where are we?”

Dante had tossed the bag on the bed and was pulling off his T-shirt, but paused with it off his head but still on his arms at that question. “What?”

“Where are we?” she repeated more slowly. “Last I knew we were in Texas, but judging by the amount of snow out there, this isn't Texas. Where are we?”

“Oh.” He finished taking off his shirt and tossed it over one of the chairs. He then crossed the room to join her at the window. Slipping his arms around her from behind, Dante pulled her back against his chest and peered out at the snowy back yard. It was night, but between the house's outdoor lights, the lights on the buildings behind the house, and his night vision, he was able to get a good look at the landscape. It was starting to warm a little as spring approached. There were patches of grass showing in spots, but it had been a hard winter and there was still a lot of snow out there.

Bending to press a kiss to the top of Mary's head, he explained, “We are at the Enforcer House in Toronto.”

“Toronto?” she asked with amazement. “As in Ontario, Canada?” When he grunted a yes, she asked, “But how did we—?”

“We flew out an hour after the accident,” Dante said
quietly. “We would have left sooner, but we had to pick up Bailey first.”

“How on earth did you get me through customs and immigration without a passport or my even being conscious?” Mary asked, sounding stunned. “And what did they say about my injuries? I mean they must have noticed my head all bent out of shape.”

“We have our own planes and do not go through customs and immigration,” he said with amusement.

Mary turned slightly and tilted her head to ask, “How do you manage that?”

Dante just raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Oh,” she murmured, after a moment. “Mind control and stuff.”

Nodding, he smiled and then kissed the tip of her nose. “It comes in quite handy in certain situations.”

“I guess,” Mary agreed dryly and turned to peer out the window again before murmuring, “Toronto.”

Something about the way she said the city's name caught his attention and Dante glanced down at the top of her head, wishing he could see her expression. He couldn't, however, so asked, “What are you thinking?”

“My daughter lives here,” she said softly. “Her husband's company transferred him here four years ago and they moved. I've missed having her and the kids in Winnipeg. I don't get to see them as much.”

“Oh,” Dante said, suspecting what was coming.

“I can see her while we're here,” Mary said and he could hear the smile in her voice at the thought, and then she added, “I haven't see her since Christmas.
Both of my kids and their families flew down to Texas for Christmas this year. I rented a house by the RV camp and we all stayed there for two weeks, enjoying the beach and visiting. It was lovely and I was thinking of detouring this way to visit them on the way home, but I—”

“Mary,” he interrupted softly.

She paused and went still, and then her tone was wary when she said, “What?”

Dante suspected he'd given away something with his tone, perhaps pity or regret. He was feeling both right now. But it had to be said. “Mary, you cannot see your daughter.”

Now she went stiff. “What do you mean? Of course I can.”

Her tone was brusque and short. She was not going to take this easily, he thought unhappily, and withdrew his arms from around her to grasp her shoulders and turn her to face him. Meeting her gaze, he asked solemnly, “How will you explain the changes you have gone through? Your new youthful appearance? The new silver tint to your eye color?”

Mary glared at him resentfully, obviously not appreciating the question, but said, “Well, I'll just explain about immortals and—”

“You cannot tell her about us,” he interrupted firmly. “Keeping our existence from the rest of world is a necessity. It is how we have survived so long as a people. If mortals knew we existed, fear alone would make them hunt us down and—”


You
told
me
,” Mary interrupted almost accusingly.

“Yes, but you are my life mate,” Dante pointed out solemnly. “I hoped to turn you. If the situation had arisen where you refused to be my life mate, I would have had to let Lucian wipe your mind of all memory of me and everything I told you.”

“He can do that?” she asked with alarm.


We
can do that,” Dante said gently. “Including you. You are one of us now, Mary.”

She frowned slightly, and then shook her head. “Well, that's all right, and I can still tell her. I want to turn her. I want to turn her husband and children too, and my son and his—”

“You cannot,” Dante interrupted and hated himself for having to do so. He was quite sure if their places were reversed, he would wish to do the same with his family. However, it just wasn't possible. “Mary, each of us is allowed only one turn. It is necessary,” he added firmly. “If every turn, turned every loved one, we would soon outstrip mortals in number.”

“So?” she snapped impatiently.

“So whom would we feed on?” Dante asked practically and saw the revulsion that immediately crossed her face. “I am sorry, but that is reality. Your reality now.”

Mary swallowed and shook her head, but then said, “Fine. But I can turn one?”

“Each immortal can turn one individual in their life,” he agreed quietly, already knowing where this was going. “They usually save it for their life mate.”

“You're my life mate, though,” she pointed out. “So I want to turn my daughter.”

“It is your choice,” he said mildly. “However, you have to gain her permission first, and she then would have to leave her husband and children behind.”

“She can turn her husband,” Mary said at once, and then added, “And he can use his one turn for his oldest daughter, who can use her turn on her sister, who can turn my son, her uncle, who can turn his wife, who can turn their son.” She smiled triumphantly. “And then we can all be immortal.”

“What if your daughter's husband is not her life mate?” he pointed out.

“They're married,” she said with a laugh.

“That does not mean they are life mates,” Dante said solemnly. “And if he is not, life together would be unbearable.”

“They love each other and live together now,” Mary pointed out. “They would be fine.”

“They may be fine living together as mortals, but that would not be the case if they were immortals and not life mates,” he assured her. “It is difficult to live with someone when you can hear their every thought.”

“But if they were both immortal—”

“Then they would both hear every thought the other had about them,” Dante said solemnly.

“You mean you guys can always read each other?” Mary asked with surprise. “It isn't just a new life mate thing?”

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