Her Devoted Vampire (11 page)

“You have
never met anyone who’s a werewolf or a vampire either, and you don’t believe in
them.” He gave her a half-smile.

“Those
are fairytale creatures, meant to scare children into behaving. Psychics
generally don’t try to harm the greater population,” Bridget said, trying to
recapture some of her skepticism.

“I think
if you’d been around during the Salem Witch Trials, you’d have a rather
different perspective about that.”

Bridget
sighed. “Let me guess. You’re a psychic vampire. Is reading minds one of your ‘gifts’?”

He
actually laughed. “No, I’ve never been able to do that, much to my own chagrin
when it came to women. No, my psychic abilities are limited to visions of
possible futures of people, either myself or someone I know.”

“But you
said you didn’t know me before last night in
Boston
.”

“What I
said was I’d never seen you physically before last night in
Boston
. I did not say I didn’t know you.”

Bridget narrowed
her eyes.
Pompous jackass
. She hated
guys who thought they were so clever, so self-assured by trying to sound wise
without having true wisdom. At least Fredrick didn’t wear a smug smirk.

“You’re
an asshole,” she said at last, turning back to the window.

“Sorry?”

“An
asshole,” she repeated with a snarl. “A jerk. A self-involved, delusional,
megalomaniac who’s so insecure with who he really is that he has to make up
stories about amazing abilities and longevity. You think you’re so clever, so
smart, that if you tell me you know me, I’ll ask how that can be possible. And
the music will swell, and you’ll tell me you’ve known me all your incredibly
long life, seeing me in different guises as different people, but always with
the same energy and grace, and I’ll turn to you with tears in my eyes and say I
knew there was something about you that I sensed, and we will rush together and
kiss and then the credits will roll. Yeah, I’ve seen the movie, read the book,
and heard the story. The problem is, you’re really not that clever, and I’m
really not that stupid.”

Another silence
ensued, and even through her disgust, she sensed his anger building. Her skin
heated with the radiance of it as he rose to his feet.

“You are
incredibly angry.” His anger coiled under his voice like a threatened snake.
“And I suppose you have good reason, given I’m holding you here against your
will. But before you grace me with another one of your ignorant outbursts,
perhaps you’d let me finish what I came here to tell you.”

Bridget gaped
at him in astonishment.

“The
story, as you so inelegantly put it, goes like this. Cynthia told me your
mother’s maiden name was Cymru, the Welsh name for the Goddess.”

“So?”
she sputtered.

“There
are hundreds of myths about the Goddess taking human form to see how Her
children care for the world, but I’ve never met the Avatar of the Goddess.”
Despite his evident anger, his said the title with reverence. “My mother,
despite my father’s disdain, worshipped the Goddess. A Priestess blessed each of
us, but she had a special message for me. She told me I would be called upon to
serve the Goddess in an important way. Then she placed her hand against my
chest above my heart and gave me the Goddess’s mark.”

To
Bridget’s surprise, Fredrick stepped back and pulled his shirt off in one
smooth motion. He wore nothing from the waist up but a small gold Celtic
filigreed ring on a thin golden chain. She damn near swallowed her tongue at
the full view of the spectacularly muscular body he displayed.

Holy crap, he’s gorgeous!

A
dusting of black hair spread across his broad chest and came together in a
black line disappearing into his pants below his navel. She yanked her eyes away
from his “happy trail” and back up to his chest before her stare became obvious.
The scents of vanilla and cinnamon filled her awareness as he stood before her and
pointed to his left pectoral muscle with his right hand.

“Look
here, Bridget.”

A small
circular mark resembling a scar marked the skin above his flat, coppery nipple.
It was about the size of a fifty cent piece and shimmered faintly in the light.
Without warning, he swung away from her and turned off the lights in the room,
plunging it into darkness. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust, but when they
did they were drawn to the mark on his chest glowing silver. The glow gently
illuminated the ridges of his muscles, tempting her hands to stroke the hard
edges. When he knelt in front of her, she realized the mark formed a familiar
shape and appeared to be moving.

She bent
forward to get a closer look. The glowing image of a great spreading tree
surrounded by a circle beckoned her, and she reached out her hand to touch the
mark.
It looks like the lapel pin he wore
in the dream.
When her fingers contacted his chest, a bolt of electricity
shot through her, and she gasped.
He gave a deep
satisfied groan and pressed his chest harder into her hand. The pressure
buckled her injured arm, and she fell into him with a squeak of surprise. He
caught her and held her close as the energy intensified.

Bridget
felt as if she’d found a missing piece of herself. She’d come home to a place
of comfort and peace, where everything was familiar and welcoming. Against her
better judgment, she relaxed into Fredrick’s warm embrace and placed the side
of her face against the mark on his chest. Power flared, and for a moment the
room blazed with brilliant light as pleasure radiated through her body.

“Holy
Goddess!” Fredrick moaned, and Bridget jerked back.

She
immediately missed their amazing connection.

They
froze for a moment in the darkness, both breathing hard and wondering what had
happened. The circled tree still glowed silver on his chest, a small pool of
light illuminating the space between them. Bridget reached backward for the
chair and caught sight of another shaft of light sliding over the carpet near
her feet. Frowning, she pulled her hand back to get a better look, but the
source moved with her.

She
froze then slowly turned her right hand over, squeaking again as a warmer, golden
light from her palm nearly blinded her. She slammed her eyes shut, waiting for
pain to strike her awareness, but everything felt normal.
 
Bridget cracked her eyes open and looked
again.

The same
symbol on Fredrick’s chest marked her palm, glowing gently with honey-colored
light. She flexed her hand, twisting it back and forth, but the glow never
died.

Wow, I have my own flashlight now.

She
wanted to giggle, but the silver light cut off suddenly as Fredrick turned
away, distracting her. She almost threw her hand up, palm out to see where he
went, but when the lights flashed back on, she squinted in adjustment.

He pulled
his shirt on over his head, disguising the shining silver mark, and his handsome
body from her sight. She mentally sighed in disappointment, wishing he’d just
walk around naked so she could watch him, touch him, feel the rough hairs
against her skin.

She
mentally slapped herself for good measure.
Focus,
dimwit! Your hand’s glowing, and you’re lusting after a sparkling vampire! Shit,
when did I get involved with something out of a paranormal romance?

“Please
tell me my hand isn’t glowing because I’m radioactive.”

Fredrick’s
laugh warmed her right down to her toes. “You’re not radioactive unless you’ve
been visiting
Chernobyl
recently.”

“It
hasn’t been on my vacation plans,” she said, glad her voice sounded steady.
“Why is my hand glowing?”

Fredrick
leaned against the wall beside the window, his arms crossed over his chest. He
studied his feet while he gathered his thoughts.

“I told
you the Priestess gave me the Mark of the Goddess when I was a boy and gave me
a special message.”

“Right,
I got that.”

He gave
her a flat look, and she sealed her lips. “The reason for the message was because
I’d been chosen by the Goddess through Her Priestess to serve Her in a specific
way. That’s when the visions started, and I learned to heed their messages.”

Fredrick
rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he examined his boot tips. “For
the last six months, I’ve received visions of you in your life, doing mundane
things like drinking coffee at the coffee shop, or watering the plants in your
apartment, innocuous things. I didn’t understand why I received them, but each
time I saw you, I grew a little more attached to you.”

“Even
when you had no idea who I was.”

“Even
then.”

“What
does this have to do with my hand turning into a personal torch?”

“Two
weeks ago, the energy in the visions changed.” Fredrick’s voice grew serious,
and dread snaked down Bridget’s back. “They became filled with warning. I
couldn’t see what danger stalked you, but I could feel it.” He grimaced as he
raised his dark eyes to her. “Unfortunately, I didn’t know your name or where
you lived or even in what city in I should start searching. I didn’t learn that
until two nights ago when I found you at Snickerdoodles, one of
my
coffee shops.” He shook his head in
disgust.

“Wait,
you
own
Snickerdoodles?”
No wonder he walked around like he owned the
place.

 
“Yes,” he answered shortly. “You’ve been so
close in
Boston
this whole time, and I’ve only now just found you. I thought you’d be safe if I
brought you to my home, the danger averted, but I can’t shake the feeling that
it remains.”

“Whoa,
I’m
still
in danger?” She rose to her
feet and braced her hands on her hips. “But you said I’d be safe here.” Then
she shook her head. “Why am I even believing you?”

Irritation
flashed across his face before he smirked slyly. “Perhaps because your hand has
become ‘a personal torch’?”

Bridget
gritted her teeth. “Yeah, why
is
that?”

“The
only thing I can guess, Bridget, is you carry the Blood of the Goddess within
you, and when you touched the sacred Mark given to me by Her High Priestess,
your bloodline recognized the blessings bestowed upon me.”

“Wait,
the ‘bloodline’ recognized it? It has an awareness?”

“The
Goddess is in all things, particularly you, my dear. She would recognize Her
blessings no matter how small.” He pointed to Bridget’s hand. “The Mark on your
hand matches the one on my chest, doesn’t it?”

Bridget
nodded uncomfortably.

“The
High Priestess told me I would know the Avatars of the Goddess, those born
directly from Her bloodline, when the Mark appeared somewhere on their bodies.
I didn’t suspect you were the Avatar until I heard your mother’s maiden name
from Cynthia.”

“So you
knew, but didn’t say anything?”

Fredrick
raised his eyebrows. “What could I say to you? You were already displeased with
my conduct and didn’t believe I was a vampire. Were you likely to believe in
Avatars of the Goddess?”

Bridget
wanted to kick something in chagrin. “No, probably not.” She looked down at her
hand, rubbing the palm with her opposite fingers. “Will it always glow like
that? That might be fun at parties, but a pain in the ass if I’m trying to get
some sleep.”

He
chuckled, and some of her uncertainty drained away.

“I think
it will only glow like that if you connect it to a Mark like mine.”

“Thank
God.”

Fredrick
frowned. “Thank the
Goddess
.”

“Right,
sorry.” The Mark on her hand looked like an old scar, barely visible in the
light. She stared at it hard, but she couldn’t see any movement like the one on
Fredrick’s chest. “So, why do you think the Mark appeared now? It’s not like it
was there before just a few minutes ago.”

“I can
only surmise its appearance is the acknowledgement of the connection between
Goddess-born and Goddess-blessed.” His expression filled with unpleasant
anticipation, as if he knew she wouldn’t like what more he had to say. “It
connects us for the rest of our lives, and it’s a symbiotic relationship, which
means if any harm comes to you, I will be affected and vice-versa. Therefore, it
is in our best interests to treat each other well.”

“Treating
me well,” Bridget said with heavy irony. “That’s what this is? Holding me here
against my will?”

“That is
for your protection. I still sense danger coming.”

“Danger
from what or from whom?”

He had
the grace to look sheepish. “I don’t know. The sense remains, and I cannot take
the chance I might not be there to stop it.”

She said
nothing to that for a short time, her thoughts churning. She rubbed her hand as
her mind raged about captivity. But after what he’d told her about their
connection, and the damn near orgasmic feeling of being in his arms, she wondered
if she really wanted to leave. Especially if he still sensed danger around her.