The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride (24 page)

“Why? Will it turn me into a vampire?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well, how would I know? You haven’t explained that part to me.”

“It takes three bites on consecutive nights to turn a mortal into a vampire. Two to make a rook. One has no effect.”

“Which explains why the world isn’t overrun with you fanged types.”

“Yes.” Her leg still blocked his path. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Will it hurt? I’m not afraid. Just curious.”

“I’m not biting you.”

She made a face, her voice carrying a teasing tone. “Is it because your fangs aren’t sharp enough?”

“You know my fangs are perfectly—you can’t prod me into this, Delaney.”

She leaned in, close enough to kiss. “Are you afraid you won’t be able to stop?”

Terrified. “Delaney, I’m not doing this.”

“Then what?”

How did he explain the spell her blood would weave over him? The way he would come to crave her more and more. The way he would be unable to think of anything but drinking from her until she had nothing left to offer. If he didn’t physically exhaust her first. Then turning her would be the only way to save her. “Because of the risk involved.”

“I already know. I might not survive the turning.”

“Not that risk.”

She jerked back. “There’s another?”

“Yes, but I don’t wish to discuss it.” She’d only push harder if she knew the details.

She wrinkled her nose. Disgustingly cute. “No secrets, remember?”

He said nothing, just stared at her.

She huffed out a breath and let her leg swing down. “Fine. Go get your gross old bagged-up blood. That is what’s in there, right?”

Relief surged through him. “Yes. Gross old bagged-up blood.” Which would now forever pale against the knowledge of what he could have had.

Still, he barely managed not to laugh as he brushed past her. He put his back to her and bent to open the cold storage unit.

The tinny scrape of metal on metal reached his ears. Then Delaney’s voice.

“Ow! Crap.”

The sweet metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils. He straightened and turned to see what she’d done, but he already knew.

Blood spilled from her hand.

She held it out in front of her. “I didn’t know that little blade was
that
sharp.”

His gaze fixed to the slice across her palm. “It’s a
scalpel
.”

She lifted her hand, examining her wound. “Why on earth do you need a scalpel?”

Tissue samples, but that wasn’t important now. Unable to control his growing hunger any longer, he felt his fangs punch through his gums.

She lifted her eyes to his and held her hand out to him. “We should do something about this.”

Need fogged his thoughts. Blood dripped onto the floor. “You did that on purpose.”

“Yes and no. I only meant to nick myself, not cause arterial damage.”

“There’s no artery there,” he muttered. Somehow he was standing next to her.

“You won’t even have to bite me now.” Her voice held innocence, but determination edged her gaze.

Upstairs, the kitchen door opened and closed, accompanied by familiar footsteps. The pungent aroma of Thai food wafted down. His rook had returned.

With a staggering amount of control, Hugh shouted for the man. “Stanhill. Bring the first aid kit immediately.”

“Hugh,” Delaney pleaded.

“No. Don’t press me on this again.”

As Stanhill started down the stairs, Hugh strode up them and away from Delaney. Another second and he’d succumb. “Bandage her hand. I’ll be in my quarters. I did not yet feed.”

Stanhill raised a brow. “Understood.”

Hugh retreated to his room, his restraint tested nearly to the breaking point. He closed the door and bolted it, realizing the foolishness of that action even as he did it. A powerful, aged vampire, and he was locking himself away from a
mortal
.

He closed his eyes. He’d never been so affected by a woman this way before. There was no doubt in his mind that Delaney would want to be turned into a vampire. Especially now that she’d professed her love for him.

He loved her as well, which only strengthened his refusal to turn her. But she would talk him into it somehow, like she’d talked him into letting her be bait for those thugs at Howlers. He would never be able to refuse her. Not when he already knew he would kill for her.

And he could see only one way out, one way to preserve her life. She had to leave.

To keep her alive, he had to break her heart.

“You can’t force him, miss.” Stanhill dabbed the slice on her palm with a cotton pad dampened with something that stung.

Delaney sucked in a breath. “I know.” But the sting of the cleanser was nothing compared to the ache in her heart over the foolishness of what she’d done. “I feel like an idiot.”

Stanhill smiled as he took a bandage from the kit. “He makes us all feel that way sometimes.”

“Why is it such a big deal? I thought I’d be the better option over blood in a bag.”

Stanhill peeled off the paper backing. “You are. In theory. But in practice, it’s a much different thing.”

She held her hand still while he fixed the bandage over her self-inflicted wound. “Why, though? I don’t get it.”

“You’ll have to get that answer from him, miss.” He snapped the kit shut. “There you go. All better.”

She held her hand up with the enormous bandage on it. “Yes, this looks normal. Not at all like I did something stupid.”

He laughed. “No one but you and I know how that happened.”

“And Hugh.” She sighed and hopped off the table. “I’m not sure I can look him in the eyes again after humiliating myself that way.”

“Come eat. You’ll feel better. Food’s on the table upstairs.”

“Maybe you’re right. Not that I’m very hungry anymore.” She started for the stairs, but Stanhill made no effort to leave.

She stopped on the landing. “You’re going to take blood to him aren’t you?”

“Yes, miss.”

With a sad smile, she trudged up to the kitchen. A white plastic bag filled with takeout containers sat on the table. It smelled great, but her appetite was gone. Stanhill had gone to the trouble, though, so she pulled out the container, unwrapped a pair of chopsticks and sat down to eat.

Stanhill came through the basement door, shutting it firmly behind him. She didn’t need to look at him to know he had a plastic bag of blood tucked under his arm. “Everything to your liking, miss?”

She forced a smile. “Great, thank you for getting this for me.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked toward the house’s interior.

“Stanhill?”

He stopped. “Yes?”

“Tell him I won’t do that again. Please. I promise.”

Stanhill nodded. “I will, but I think he’d like to hear that from your lips himself.”

She sighed and stared at her food. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Then he left. A moment later, she heard footsteps on the stairs.

First thing in the morning, when they were both up and the sting of the humiliation had worn off, she’d apologize to Hugh. If she didn’t, the tension between them would ruin what promised to be a very fun day at the parade.

After all he’d done for her—letting her stay, protecting her from those men—he deserved a face-to-face apology. She loved him and he loved her. That was enough for now, wasn’t it?

She poked at the pad thai with her chopsticks. Maybe as things progressed, he’d change his mind. How could he not, really? Because their relationship would either lead to them breaking up or deciding to spend the rest of their lives together.

Which for her, would mean making the literally life-changing decision to become a vampire. A little half smile bent her mouth. Delaney James—no, Ellingham—confectioner and vampire. She stuck a shrimp in her mouth and chewed.

What a one-eighty her life had made in these last few days. She got up and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. What would it be like to be a vampire? Would Alice make her an amulet too? Delaney dreaded the thought of going without sunlight for the rest of her days. Or nights, as the case might be.

No more lazy days off spent by the pool. Or the beach. Or the park. But of course, she’d have Hugh, and his company would help make up for that.

She spun some noodles around her chopsticks and took another bite. Tomorrow, Hugh would have his apology, and she’d let things between them take their natural course.

In her heart, she knew exactly where that natural course was going to lead, so sooner or later, she’d end up becoming a vampire and none of this would matter anyway.

 
“I know
why
you refused her,” Stanhill said as Hugh let him in. “But she doesn’t, and so she’s down there feeling like a right idiot and wondering where she went wrong. You’d be lucky if she stays after all this.”

“Maybe it would be better if she didn’t stay. If that was her decision.” Hugh’s heart was heavy, saddened by the inevitable split that would be required to keep Delaney safe.

Stanhill held out the bagged goods. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

Hugh took the bag and shook his head. “I will not turn her and risk her life.”

“But you love her.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t turn her.”

“Maybe
you’re
the right idiot.” Stanhill scowled. “She could come through the turning right as rain.”

Hugh scowled right back. “And it could kill her. Would you take that chance with Corette’s life?”

Stanhill’s expression softened. “I…I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

Stanhill sighed. “But you love her. Don’t you want to spend the rest of your life with her?”

“I do. But I will
not
have her death on my hands.”

“So you’re going to break both your hearts on the chance that something might go wrong. Trade an eternity of happiness for an eternity of sorrow. Over a
chance
.”

“She’ll get over me.”

“Will she? Or will she go to her grave wondering what might have happened?”

“Enough, Stanhill.”

He snorted softly. “And you. You’ll have centuries to think about her. At least her suffering will end with her death. You don’t have that option. Unless you slip out of that amulet and into the sunshine.”

Hugh punched him.

Stanhill staggered back, arms out to keep his balance. “Bloody hell, what was that for?”

“For not shutting the hell up when I said enough. I know what I’m doing.”

Stanhill rubbed his jaw, eyes blazing with indignation. “No, you don’t. Or you wouldn’t be doing it.”

“You’d have me do what then? Marry her? Turn her? What if she dies? What then?”

“It might not happen that way.”

“But if it does?” Hugh stared at him, feeling the pain of that possibility like a dagger to the heart. “Do you know what losing her that way would do to me? I can’t be responsible for that. It would…it will kill me.”

Stanhill’s stern expression remained. “Either way, you lose her. And either way, you’re responsible. Is this the end of you then? Will you wait until she’s gone before you meet the dawn, or do you plan to head out tomorrow at sunrise and get it over with?”