Mercy's Danger: Montgomery's Vampires Trilogy (Book #2) (Montgomery's Vampires Series) (23 page)

I hoped our plan of feeding Robert blood would work. I couldn’t bear it if he died. Again. Witnessing his death once was plenty enough.

Robert had begun to heal almost instantly after drinking the blood. If it weren’t for Jerry (and his vampy long-distance hearing ability), Robert and I would have been goners. My debt to the vampire kept racking up. At the rate I was going, it would take me a thousand years to repay him. Jerry, being Jerry, wouldn’t hear of it. He said I owed him nothing.

While Robert recuperated inside the beautiful wood coffin that had originally been intended for me, Jerry and I discussed theories. We concluded that the change my blood induced in vampires was temporary—that it would change any vampire to human, but the amount of time they remained human varied. We also hypothesized that the amount of time it took for a new human to change back into a vampire directly correlated to their age.

I said, “It makes perfect sense. How did we not see it before? There’s a scientific explanation for all of this.”

“It’s either science,” Jerry said with a shaky smile, “or Robert has to be the luckiest son of a gun on the planet.”

I chuckled. “Perhaps both.” I told Jerry about the chart we’d seen at Leopold’s, the one that outlined the changeover times of vampires who’d been given M.M. SAMPLE #25.

“So, let me see if I’m following you. Vampires under five hundred took about one to two months to change. Five hundred to a thousand, the change took roughly two to four weeks. And vamps over a thousand changed instantly.”

“That’s right,” I said. “These times are how long it took vamps to change from the serum that had a high concentration of my blood, remember. This is why we warned you that your changeover would take some time. You’ll probably change faster than Robert, though, since you’re a little older than him.”

“So, how long has it taken Robert to change back?”

“A few months. As Robert keeps reminding me, this whole changeover business isn’t an exact science.”

“Well, then there it is,” Jerry said. “The amount of time it takes a new mortal to change back into a vampire might correlate to how long it takes them to change into a human.”

“Eh?” I said, my brain still a little jumbled from emotional trauma.

“What I mean is this: The longer it takes a vampire to initially change from your blood, the longer they stay human.”

I processed what Jerry was saying. “It’s confusing, but why not? Vampires are supernatural creatures, so it’s not surprising that anything related to them medically would have magical properties. Of course, we’re going off what we’ve seen with just Robert. It could be different for you.”

“Does this mean that I’ll become vampire again?”

“It appears so. Sorry Jerry . . .”

“Imagine that! The effect of your blood is fleeting, and the VGO want to kill you,” Jerry said incredulously. “But Leopold is the
real
danger. Turns out that he’s the only one on the planet with a permanent cure to vampirism.”

“You don’t say,” I muttered, deep in thought.

“Oh no! Have I offended you? There I go, running my mouth again!”

“No, it’s not that. It’s . . . I could kiss you!” I rose up on my tiptoes and did just that, planting my lips firmly on Jerry’s.

Jerry was bewildered. “What have I done?”

“You have given me the best idea. And with it, I just might be able to save my life.”

20

Robert was aghast when I shared my plan with him. He sputtered, “I’m sorry, you want to do
what?
”

Jerry put in his two cents worth. “Girl, I
told
you it was crazy.” He shook his head and made a
mm-mm-mph
sound.

“I want to turn myself in to the VGO,” I declared. “I don’t think they’ll kill me once they hear what I have to offer.”

“You can’t be certain of that,” Robert said. “I won’t have you putting your life in danger on some whim.”

Jerry patted my hand. “I’m sorry, sugar, but I have to agree with Robert on this one.”

“I appreciate your concern, guys, but hear me out. Yes, we can’t be positive that the VGO won’t kill me the moment I approach. But, guess what?
They’re trying to kill me anyway.
” I folded my arms, defiant. I was done having others making
my
choices. “And, I’m sorry, Robert, but whether or not I go off on a whim is not for you to decide. I’ve made up my mind.”

Robert hugged me against his immaculate chest. Absolutely no sign that he’d ever been stabbed existed. Surprised, I jerked my head back. I’d gotten used to the thumping of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin. Now it was silent and icy. “I don’t want to lose you, Mercy,” he whispered.

Jerry tactfully made an excuse to return to his room, obviously wanting to give us some privacy. He was scheduled to fly back to San Francisco in a few hours, so I made him promise to come and say goodbye before he left.

“Robert, we can’t stay on the run forever,” I said after Jerry was gone. “How long did it take the VGO to find us all the way out here?”

“Yes, but—”

I placed my index finger over his lips. “There is no
but
. I’m done
looking over my shoulder. No more. And I’m over vampires trying to murder me. First it was Michael, then his creepy goon in the warehouse, and now it’s the VGO. I wouldn’t take my life with you back for the world, Robert, and I love vampires . . . for the most part. But I want us to have some semblance of a normal existence.”

“I understand.”

“Now, the issues surrounding my impending old age we’ll have to sort out later. Maybe we can find a way to turn me vampire in the future. Nothing is set on stone. But this business with the VGO? This I can at least
attempt
to rectify. I refuse to continue living my life cowered away in hiding because, frankly, it isn’t a life at all. I want my life back—our home, Liz, our freedom. I have to at least try.”

Robert sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. We will go to the VGO headquarters.”

“We?”

“You didn’t think you were going without me, did you?”

A few miles outside of Edinburgh, Robert and I arrived at an ancient structure that was as tall as it was wide—and it was very, very wide. I already knew that the VGO headquarters were located in Scotland, of course, but what I hadn’t known was that they operated from a castle.

Like Leopold’s lab, I could feel eyes upon us as soon as we stepped foot onto the property. Unlike the lab, no guard met us, so I assumed the vampires were either on the roof or hiding in treetops. I was too frightened to look up. They allowed us to walk right through the front door, marked with an unassuming name: D&B Incorporated. A complete front, particularly because it was approaching midnight and the place was lit up like it was noontime. The front door was unlocked.

“You swear that you’re going to let me do all the talking?” I asked Robert.

“I swear,” Robert promised. “This is your show.”

The receptionist, a vampire, seemed to be expecting us. Her eyes widened at the sight of Robert, but she got a hold of herself in an instant. Perhaps she’d been expecting two humans and had been stunned to see only one accompanied by a newly reinstated vamp.

The receptionist held up a finger as we approached. She wouldn’t look at us directly, which I took as a bad sign. You wouldn’t want to grow attached to a lamb about to go to slaughter, which was precisely what I felt like.

“Just a moment,” the receptionist said, and then she snatched up the phone on her desk. She muttered in hushed tones that I couldn’t quite make out. My hope was that she wasn’t saying something along the lines of, “You may now come down and kill the idiot who was stupid enough to turn herself in.”

I’d never been inside an actual castle before. The air was cool, moist, and unsettling. The VGO had kept up with the general medieval theme when decorating: armored figures in every corner, shiny weapons bolted to the walls, clunky metal candelabras, unattractive burgundy rugs. I was curious about what the VGO claimed D&B to be. Interior design for palace dwellers? Antique restoration? I almost asked, but then I remembered that I was there to save my life, not make chitchat with the unfriendly vampire receptionist.

The receptionist ended her conversation on the phone and then pushed back from her desk. “Follow me,” she commanded.

It took great effort to make my feet move. “It will be okay,” Robert said as he reached out and took my hand.

The receptionist stopped. “No touching, please.”

I let go of Robert. “Why?” I demanded before I could stop myself.

She shot me an annoyed glance—
irritating human
—and then pointed to the cameras positioned every thirty or so feet along the hall ceiling. Of course they’d be watching us. “Their rules, not mine.”

Our walk ended in a boardroom that could have doubled for a small aircraft hangar. Entering it was like traveling forward in time a couple centuries. In contrast to reception, the room was sleek and modern in decoration. I scanned the floor for signs of blood spatters and was relieved to see none. At the far end of the room sat a long table that could accommodate at least twenty on either side. It was positioned so that it was horizontal to the doorway. The table was made from a single piece of wood, which I found astounding. I also found it astounding that I was thinking of furniture design when seated at the table sat an assembly of stony-faced vampires.

I looked over at Robert, wondering if he was regretting his decision to turn himself in as much as I was. It occurred to me then that the only other times in my life that I’d been so scared were when I was being threatened by other vampires—Michael, James, and the assassin on the beach, specifically. I nearly barked out a demented laugh at the revelation, which probably would have been a very bad idea. These vampires didn’t seem like jokey types.

The receptionist led us to two empty chairs opposite the vampires at the table. The chairs were situated ten feet apart, probably to abide to their no touching rule. There were about a dozen men and five women. None of the vampires moved, and all of their eyes were trained on me.

Scratch that. All but one of the vamps had their eyes on me. The exception, a chesty woman who looked about twenty-eight in human years, was eating Robert alive with her gaze the same way a woman ravenous with PMS would eyeball a slice of chocolate cake. I would have almost preferred hostility, because the woman’s attention was lustful, like she was aware that
I was aware
that she was eyeing my boyfriend. And she knew that I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Worse, she was gorgeous with a capital G, with white blond hair that bordered on silver, and deep blue eyes. She was lean, and though she was seated, I could tell that her legs extended up to her ears. I didn’t like her one bit. I’d never been in a fight with a woman in my entire life, but the Pelville redneck in me wanted to smack her brazen face—sorry, but no woman should
ever
look at another woman’s man in such a way. Thankfully, my practical side squelched all the violent ideas I had flowing through my head. Blondie, being vampire, would have squashed me underfoot before I had the chance to hurl a single insult.

“You’re perplexed,” one of the vamps said, and I jumped about ten feet in my seat.

I’d been so startled by the vampire’s thick Irish accent that I hadn’t realized that he was speaking to me. For a horrible moment my lungs seized and I couldn’t find my voice. This was far worse than standing in front of a classroom naked.

I reminded myself that I was there on my own volition (sort of) and now was not the time to screw things up by being chicken. I met the vampire’s eyes, which were butterscotch gold. He was coffee black, with thick greying dreadlocks down to his waist. He’d been turned at a later age. My guess was that he’d ceased being human around sixty. He couldn’t have weighed much more than me, but anyone with half a brain could detect his
I will snap you like a twig if you dare piss me off
vibe from ten miles away. He was dressed like a quintessential rock star: dark eyeliner, thick rings on every finger, vest over his shirtless body, black leather pants. He was striking in an unspeakable sort of way, the same way a Francis Bacon painting makes your breath catch in your throat. This was a vampire that compelled strangers to look twice, but not for too long.

“You aren’t as I anticipated,” I said diplomatically.

“Ah,” said a different vampire, a boy with chin-length strawberry hair and reddish-brown eyes to match. “And what was that?” His accent was Australian, another surprise. His freckled skin was so pale that it looked almost blue under the surface. He was seated next to Dreadlocks, but was a lot younger, about seventeen.

It was funny to think that some of the vampires youngest in appearance could very well be the oldest as far as actual years spent on earth went. From what I’d ascertained while hanging out with vamps, this usually seemed to be the case. Thousands of years ago, most humans didn’t live much beyond what people now considered middle-aged, so a boy in his late teens would have been deemed a man if he was turned vampire in a year that ended with B.C. On the other hand, recent vampires—those who’d been turned within the last century or so—tended to look older because, well, who wants to spend all of eternity trapped as a teenager? This vampire-teenager in particular was dressed in attire contradictory to Dreadlocks: tailored pinstriped suit, bowler hat, shiny black dress shoes. It was like they’d received invitations to two separate events: a rock concert and a high-class wedding.

My only choice was to continue, but I picked my words carefully. I wished Robert weren’t sitting so far away. “I was expecting . . . I don’t know, everyone to be sitting in gold thrones and wearing long velvet capes. You’re so . . . motley.”

All of the vampires but one found this amusing. They cracked fanged smiles; a few even chuckled. Guess which one remained a sourpuss. Without taking her eyes off Robert, the blond patronized, “Such a clueless little human.”

Robert scowled and everyone else ignored her.
Take that, bitch!

A small Japanese woman in a navy skirt suit that I could have sworn was by Seraphim Blythe spoke up. “Yes, we pride ourselves on multiculturalism.” Multiculturalism indeed. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I was attending a conference for the UN.

A man with handsomeness that rivaled Robert’s took charge. He was seated in the center of the group. I shifted in my seat because it was difficult not to gape at him.

This vampire was all man: muscular, prominent nose, wavy black hair that just grazed his cheekbones, mocha brown eyes. And,
my-my-my
, he was wearing a kilt that showed off powerful legs that were cut like marble. I pondered the rumor about men wearing nothing under their kilts—whether or not it was true. Some vampires could read minds, and at that precise moment I was
so happy
Robert wasn’t one of them.

Pull it together, Montgomery. This vampire is contemplating killing you.
I reached back and pretended to scratch my neck, but what I’d really done was give myself a firm pinch.

The kilted vampire must have been high-ranking. The room quieted when he began to speak. “We talked on the phone, Mercy,” he said with a dazzling and familiar Scottish lilt. Wowza! It sounded like he was singing to me.
You love Robert—you love Robert—you love Robert
. “I am Joseph.”

Joseph’s voice didn’t match the image of him that I’d created. I’d expected him to look more like the freckled kid in the bowler hat and less like the kind of man you’d see on the cover of a men’s health magazine. Guess you can never tell with vampires.

I nodded primly. I wondered if they’d expected me to kiss the ring on his finger or something. No way was that going to happen, not after all the shit they’d put me through.

“Hello, Joseph,” I said. They looked like they sought more from me, so I tacked on, “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“It looks like you’ve brought a vampire friend,” purred Blond Bitch in a sultry French accent. Her eyes still hadn’t left Robert. “I’m Serena. Who might
you
be?”

“I’m Mercy’s fiancé,” Robert declared.
Fiancé?
Um, that was news to me.

I decided to roll with it. Perhaps Robert being more than my boyfriend had some significance amongst vampires, like he had claim on me like property, which I didn’t appreciate. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to choose that particular moment to launch into a lecture about archaic sexist attitudes.