Micah's Calling (3 page)

"Don't change the subject."

He grinned his sexy smile at her. "I'm not." He
feigned innocence, but Sam knew better.

Still, she was getting to the point where she didn't think
he would ever be able to stay out of her mind. Small price to pay to be with
the one she loved, but it still caught her off guard.

"Grab me a towel?" She knew as soon as he pulled
out of her it could get messy. He had come twice in one shot, if she wanted to
think about it that way.

He reached and tore off a paper towel and handed it to her
before slowly sliding free of her.

She took the towel and shook her head at him. "You are
really beginning to make a mess of me. You know that, don't you?"

With a flourish of his hand across her forehead and through
her hair, he swept in, locked lips with her with enough fire to light up
Chicago, then pulled away.

"Let's eat. You need your nourishment." He
gestured to the cutting board full of sliced cheese and veggies. His half-hard
cock bobbed distractingly in front of him, but at this point, with so many days
of constant nudity between them, all semblance of prudish restraint had been
kicked out the window.

"I have somewhere I want to take you," he said.

"Oh?" She disposed of the towel after tidying
herself up then washed her hands before joining him in front of his quaint
counter picnic.

He held out a piece of cheese for her and she took it
between her teeth.

"My home," he said.

"Yeah. Your home." She looked at him and waited
for the punch line.

He ate a cherry tomato then held one out for her, frowning
at her quizzical glance. "What?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

She gaped at him and laughed. "What about your
home?" She looked around his apartment and shrugged.

Micah stammered and shook his head. "No. My
home.
This isn't my home." He gestured to the rest of the apartment.

Huh? Was Sam missing something?

"This is just where I stay," he said. "I
don't consider this my home."

"Ooohhhh." She was finally getting it. "So,
do you have a house or something?"

He nodded, crunching into a carrot stick. "Yes, in the
burbs. I want to take you there tonight."

Well, well. Micah had a house. His secrets just unfolded
more and more. As she grabbed another bite of cheese, she wondered what kind of
house it was. Was it small? Large? Definitely large. Micah didn't seem the type
to have a small home. So, how large? Mansion large or just adequately big? Did
he have a pool?

She glanced into the living room of his apartment, noting
the exquisite furniture, the antique sword mounted on the wall, the classic
novels that looked like originals on his bookcase, his alphabetized CDs. The
Monet for God's sake. Did he have more of the same in his other home? She got
the feeling this was but a small collection of riches compared to what Micah
would have in his home. Just how much money did Micah have?

Her gaze flicked curiously toward him as she wondered what
else he had to share with her. He was grinning as he chewed, his gaze averted
from hers as he picked through the cheese on the cutting board. Obviously, he
was inside her head again, humored by her rambling thoughts.

She narrowed her eyes at him.
You fuck like a stallion.

One eyebrow shot up and his grin quirked.

"I thought so," she said, looking back down and
picking up a piece of celery.

He laughed. Dark, rich, and lovely. She loved his laugh.
From what he had told her, he hadn't laughed in a long time. Centuries, really.
However, in the short time she had known him, he seemed to be laughing more and
more.

They finished what he had prepared for them then he swatted
her playfully on the ass.

"Come on. Let's get going. I want to hurry and get you
back here so I can fuck you again."

"Micah!" She smacked his chest.

"Hey, it's your fault, remember. All your fault."
His navy blue eyes glinted with amusement as he goosed her toward the hall.

She jumped and slapped his hand. "Yeah, yeah.
Uh-huh."

Ten minutes later, she was in the passenger seat of his
black Audi A8 as they pulled out of the Sentinel's parking garage. Nice car.
Finally, she knew what he drove. It sure beat her late 80s Toyota Corolla.

"I'm going to buy you a new car," he said.

Sam rolled her eyes at him. He was inside her head again, as
always.

"You don't have to do that, Micah."

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. As he kissed it,
his manicured, black facial stubble tickled her skin.

"I want to."

He released her hand and she slipped it into his hair,
combing her fingers through all that long, black silk.

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes, and she
thought more about what was happening between them.

"Okay, so this…
calling.
It affects you when you
take a mate, right?" She really wanted to understand this.

"Yes."

"And, when you're in this
calling
phase, you are
at your most fertile. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"So, should I be using protection?" Bad time to
think about that, but it really hadn't come up until just now. They'd been too
busy getting busy to stop and think about the trivial stuff, such as preventing
an unplanned pregnancy. You know, nothing big.

Micah cleared his throat and glanced at her. "I don't
think so."

"Why? If you're at your most fertile, and we're having
all kinds of unprotected sex, won't I get pregnant?" The idea of having
his baby was appealing, but she wasn't sure she was ready for that.

Micah shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.
"After what's happened to you, I don't think you can get pregnant. At
least, not right now. If anything, you would have been pregnant before Apostle
bit you, because I was already entering my
calling
phase with you before
then. That first night with you. I felt it then." He paused. "And if
you were pregnant, his venom would have pretty much…." Micah didn't finish
the sentence, but Sam didn't need him to for her to understand what he was
saying.

She put her hand over her belly introspectively, wondering
if she had been pregnant and lost the baby after Apostle's attack.
"Oh."

"And then I added my venom into the equation to save
you, and now…your body is so new that I don't think it's capable of taking a
fertilized egg.
Yet."

Sam's mind jumped back to that night. Had it really only
been a week since Apostle had tried to kill her? But Micah had saved her. He
had broken all kinds of vampire laws to transform her into an immortal, but at
least he had saved her life, binding her to him forever in the process of
combining his venom with her blood.

"Do you think I'll ever…?"

Micah took her hand and hushed her, obviously knowing what
she was thinking. "It's only temporary, Sam. Once your body adjusts,
you'll be able to bear children."

The two sat silently for a minute, and Sam wondered what
Micah was thinking. He could see inside her thoughts, but she couldn't see
inside his.

"Do you want to have children with me?" His voice
was soft, almost hopeful.

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

Micah pulled over and put the car in park. He unfastened his
seatbelt and in an instant had her in his arms, swooping her up and kissing her
hard.

Wow, she needed to remember: handcuffs and children. Those
were his hot buttons.

He pulled back and chuckled self-consciously. "I'm
sorry," he said. "The
calling
makes us males a bit
emotional."

"I can see that." Sam palmed his cheek as they
stared into each other's eyes. "I like it."

"I'm not so sure I do, but I'll live." He grinned.

"Tell me more about this
calling."
She felt
like they had only scratched the surface.

"Well, for one thing, it makes us
really
want to
have children." Micah made a face and nodded before pointing to himself as
if he were Exhibit A. "As in, it's all we can think about besides sex,
which is why hearing you say you want to bear my children pleases me so
much." He caressed her face with the backs of his fingers. "My goal
while I'm in my
calling
phase is to get you pregnant. It's why I
physically can't
not
have sex with you. And it's why the phase lasts for
so long. Because by lasting two weeks or more, the
calling
ensures I
will hit the chosen female while she ovulates."

"So female vampires? They have monthly periods,
too?"

Micah nodded. "More or less."

"And does this mean that when you aren't in a
calling,
you can't get me pregnant?"

"Well, yes and no." He shrugged. "It's a lot
harder to get you pregnant when I'm not in my
calling,
but it can
happen." He grinned. "Think of it this way: Outside my
calling,
my sperm count is meager, to say the least. In my
calling,
I become
Super Sperm Man." He absently made a little squiggly gesture over his
chest as if he was drawing a sperm on himself.

Sam laughed at the visual. "Do I need to make you a
little red and blue leotard suit, Mr. Super Sperm Man?"

Micah flushed with embarrassment. "That would be a
no."

She pressed her finger against the center of his chest and
drew a slow squiggle. "Awe, I think it would look cute."

With a dramatic sigh, he leaned back in his seat and buckled
up. "Do. Not. Even. Think about it."

She broke out in laughter again. Micah was so adorable when
he was miffed.

"Well, if I do think about it, I'm sure you'll be the
first to know." She was in the midst of a fit of giggles now, unable to
hold back as he scowled playfully at her.

"Funny, Miss Garrett."

She held up her hands, still giggling. "Whoa! Wait a
minute. I thought I was Mrs. Black."

"As you so eloquently pointed out,
Miss Garrett
…"
He pointed to her left ring finger. "I don't see a ring on that
finger."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, you can fix
that, you know."

"Maybe." He coyly fixed his gaze on the road.

A moment later, after she had finally gotten her giggling
under control again, she asked, "So, how often do you have these
calling
phases? I assume it happens more than once if it's the main form of propagating
the vampire race."

"Mated males experience a
calling
once every
five to ten years."

"What happens if his mate isn't around to accommodate
him?"

He gave her a look as if to suggest she better not be
getting any ideas to run off and play hide-and-seek. "It's agony. Pure
agony. The only thing more dangerous than a mutant is a mated male in his
calling
without his mate. The mood swings are violent, the agony unbearable. He will do
whatever he has to do to get to his mate when he is in the
calling.
"
He paused. "You would be wise to take my word on this and not test me on
the matter."

Duly noted. But what was that other thing he mentioned?
Mutants. Hadn't he mentioned them once before?

"Remind me. Mutants are…?"

Micah grinned patiently. "Some vampires are what we
called mixed-bloods. They are not full-blooded vampires. More and more often,
vampires are mating with humans, so we get these cross-breeds, like Trace. He's
a mixed-blood." Micah kept one hand on the wheel as he briefly gestured
with the other, palm up, as if he was holding a hologram of Trace in his palm.
"Anyway, when a human and a vampire mate, their children are born with
unique powers. It's like a genetic mutation takes place and heightens their
abilities in a certain area. Take Trace, for example." Micah quickly
glanced at her as he slowed down to take a turn. "Trace has this
unbelievable power to mass compel. I've never seen anything like it. He can
bring an entire room of people to a standstill and pick through the minds of
multiple people at one. I don't even think I know the extent of his power,
either, which I think he got from his mother, but I'm not sure."

"Can't you see inside his mind?" Sam frowned with
curiosity.

Micah shook his head. "Not him. For some reason, his
mind is locked up tighter than Guantanamo Bay. Either he has consciously locked
me and everybody else out, or it's another of his powers and he is a closed
door. I'm not sure. All I know is that I can walk into the room and see
everyone else's thoughts but his."

"Wow." Sam was beginning to realize that Trace was
a formidable vampire. "And you think he had something to do with how
Apostle and his friends were killed?"

Micah had told her that Apostle and the other drecks who had
been after her had been found mutilated inside a house in the suburbs. At least
the authorities and enforcers who had gone to the scene thought it was Apostle
and his cronies. There wasn't much left of the bodies to identify them. They
were more-or-less pools of ruptured organs, decimated bones, and flesh. But if
Trace had been responsible for their deaths, he wasn't fessing up.

"It had to be him." Micah shot her an awed look.
"I can't imagine anyone else having a motive or being capable of that kind
of massacre." Micah paused. "That's why I said I don't even know the
extent of his power. If it was Trace who did that, he's more powerful than I
thought."

Silence stretched for a second. "Okay, so about
mutants." Sam prompted him to continue.

Micah nodded. "Yes. So anyway, occasionally one of the
mixed-bloods loses control over his or her power. Their power is caused by a
genetic mutation to begin with, amplifying a segment or multiple segments of
their brains or nervous system, or what-have-you. Imagine this mutation, or you
can just refer to it as power, being more like a parasite. This power feeds off
its host. Most of the time, the power lives in harmony with the host, and other
times it doesn't. As long as it's living in harmony with its carrier, the power
is harmless to him or her. But when the host and the power, or mutation, are
constantly at odds, all hell can break loose and the power consumes the host.
The mutation takes over, and a physiological transformation occurs. The
mixed-blood vampire becomes more or less a monster, or what we call a mutant.
Their strength magnifies, and their venom becomes pure poison. A mutant's bite
is more deadly than anything else."