The Vampire and the Virgin (20 page)

He nodded. Shanna must have figured he’d be attracted to Sarah since they’d both suffered under the hands

He nodded. Shanna must have figured he’d be attracted to Sarah since they’d both suffered under the hands

of Casimir. They did have that in common, but it seemed like a miserably sad basis for a relationship. And the

torture wasn’t something he wanted to be reminded of anymore. Olivia had shown him there was more. She’d

brought joy and laughter back into his life.

“Hey, Sarah! Everything okay?” A young man rushed into the classroom. From the alarmed look on his face,

Robby guessed the young woman already had a serious admirer.

“Oh, hi, Teddy.” Sarah gave him a reassuring smile. “Everything’s fine. This is Robby MacKay. He brought Tino

to school.”

“I could have brought myself,” Tino grumbled.

“I’m Teddy Brockman.” The young man shook hands with Robby. “The headmaster of Dragon Nest Academy.”

“Teddy’s very supportive,” Sarah explained. “He comes by every night to make sure I have everything I need.”

Robby nodded. “I’m sure he does.” He gave the young male mortal a pointed look. “Good luck to you.”

Teddy’s eyes shifted to Sarah, then back to Robby. “Thanks.”

A form wavered, then materialized. It was Jean-Luc Echarpe, holding his stepdaughter Bethany in his arms.

He set her down, and she skipped over to the table to greet her classmates.

“I need to get started now,” Sarah announced. She glanced at Robby with a smile. “It was nice to see you

again.”

“I’ll see you guys later.” Teddy waved at Robby and Jean-Luc and rushed out the door.

Jean-Luc greeted Robby with a slap on the shoulder. “
Mon ami
, stay for a while. I’m teaching a fencing class

in thirty minutes. You can help me warm up.”

“Verra well.” Robby accompanied the Frenchman into the hallway. “I could use some practice.”

Robby had been Jean-Luc’s bodyguard for years, first in Paris, and then in Texas. A few years ago he’d

helped Jean-Luc defeat his archenemy, Lui. Since then, the job had become too routine and boring for Robby’s

taste, so he’d requested a transfer.

Jean-Luc was a master swordsman, and he could usually take care of himself, so Dougal Kincaid had been

given the job as his new bodyguard. Dougal had lost his right hand in a battle in New Orleans.

“How is Dougal?” Robby asked.

“He’s doing well. He’s learning to fence left-handed.” Jean-Luc led Robby to a wide staircase with ornately

carved wooden balusters.

As far as Robby could tell, the school was housed in an old mansion. The wooden steps creaked under their

feet. “I heard ye and Heather are having twins.”

Jean-Luc laughed.
“C’est incroyable
,
non?
Me, a father?”

Robby shrugged one shoulder. “I think ye’ll be a great father. Ye’re certainly verra good with Bethany.”

“Merci, mon ami.”
Jean-Luc paused when they reached the landing. “So when is Jack’s wedding?”

“April.” Robby grimaced. “I’m the best man.”

Jean-Luc’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You don’t look very happy about it.”

Robby stifled a groan. “It just seems like everyone is getting married.”
Everyone but me.

Jean-Luc nodded and headed down the stairs. “There’s a rumor going about that you’re lovesick.”

“Bugger. People should mind their own business.”

Jean-Luc smiled. “We’re not people,
mon ami
. We’re family.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs. The ground floor, Robby guessed. The foyer was grand, with a black

and white marble floor laid out in checkerboard fashion. A huge wrought-iron chandelier hung from the ceiling

three stories up. The front entrance consisted of two heavily carved wooden doors with a Gothic arch.

“’Tis verra fancy,” Robby murmured.

“Oui.”
Jean-Luc motioned toward a hall to the right. “The gymnasium is outside. It was the old coach house.”

They headed down the hall. A door opened and two women emerged. The first one’s purple hair made her

instantly recognizable. Vanda Barkowski.

Robby jerked to a halt when he saw the second woman. A cold chill sifted along his skin. He reached over his

shoulder for his claymore, but he’d neglected to bring it.

She stopped, her eyes widening. “Robby,” she whispered. “You’re all right?”

No thanks to you
. Anger erupted inside him. “What the hell is she doing here?”

The woman flinched.

Vanda stiffened. “Where do you get off, talking to my sister like that?”

Robby clenched his fists. He’d never hit a woman before, not even his wife when she’d betrayed him, but

Marta Barkowski deserved it. “What is she doing here?”

“We live here,” Vanda snapped. “I’m the art teacher, and Marta’s working as Teddy’s secretary.”

“Angus must be out of his mind!” Robby yelled. He fumbled in his sporran for his cell phone.

Jean-Luc touched his arm. “Calm down,
mon ami
.”

“This is a serious breach of security,” Robby growled. “That woman canna be trusted.”

“I’m not a Malcontent anymore!” Marta shouted with a thick accent. Her eyes glistened with tears.

“You’re upsetting her.” Vanda glared at Robby.

He glared back. “Has she ever told you how she assisted in my torture?”

“Please!” Tears rolled down Marta’s face. “I’m so sorry, Robby. I didn’t want to do it.”

“Ye were smiling!” Robby shouted, raising a fist. His hand shook as he struggled for control.

“She was brainwashed and abused,” Vanda explained. “She’s a victim as much as you.”

Jean-Luc pulled Robby back. “You two go on.”

Jean-Luc pulled Robby back. “You two go on.”

Vanda and Marta rushed toward the stairs, Vanda looping an arm around her crying sister.

Robby glared at them, his fists still clenched, his breath hissing through gritted teeth.

“You probably set Marta back a few months in her recovery,” Jean-Luc murmured.

“Ye think I care? The woman is a Malcontent. She canna be trusted.”

Jean-Luc sighed. “She’s trying to start over and lead a good life.”

“She doesna deserve it,” Robby grumbled.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Robby turned and stalked down the hallway. He’d tried for months to forget the details of his torture, but

seeing Marta brought it all back. Casimir had left her alone with him to touch him and get him physically

aroused, just to make Casimir’s whipping more painful. More humiliating. “She shouldna be here. No’ with the

children. She canna be trusted.”

“Robby.” Jean-Luc grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I know you suffered. But you need to give her a chance.”

“Nay,” he hissed. “She’ll betray us.”

“Not all women are like your wife,” Jean-Luc whispered.

Robby stiffened. In the years that he’d worked as Jean-Luc’s bodyguard, they’d become good friends. Robby

had confided a great deal about his past. About his wife.

He’d tried to return to her after Culloden, but Mavis had rejected him in horror. He’d stayed nearby, hiding in a

cave during the day and working the farm at night. He hadn’t known what she was doing during the day until it

was too late. She took up with the enemy, took an English soldier as her lover, one of the same English that had

killed him and his friends on the battlefield.

Robby had been forced to leave when the Englishman swore to find him during the day and kill him. He’d

tried to keep in touch with his daughter over the years. She’d grown up, treated like a servant until she ran away

at the age of fifteen to marry a local boy. Then they’d taken a ship to America, and he never knew what had

happened to her.

Robby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “’Tis difficult to trust women. They can rip yer heart in two.”

“I know.” Jean-Luc opened the door at the end of the hall, and an icy breeze swept inside. The courtyard

outside was dark, with snow piled around the perimeter. “Come. You can work off your anger with some

swordplay.”

Robby stepped outside onto the brick pavement, and icy cold air stung his face. His breath vaporized as he

exhaled. He followed Jean-Luc toward the gymnasium. He didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt weary and

tired. And so alone.
Olivia, why do ye no’ call me?
If it were possible for a woman to be loyal and true, it would

be her. He wanted it to be her.

The cell phone in his sporran rang, and he halted with a jerk. Was it her? He reached in the sporran, grabbed

the phone and opened it. “Hello?”

“Robby, I’m calling from London.” Emma MacKay spoke briskly. “Something came up that I thought you

should know about.”

“You have a lead on Casimir?” Robby asked.

“No, an e-mail came through the MacKay S and I website. Someone from the FBI is requesting information

about you.”

His chest tightened. “Who?”

“It was signed O. Sotiris.”

His heart lurched. “’Tis Olivia.”

“The woman you met on Patmos?” Emma asked.

“Aye.” Robby grinned. If she was investigating him, then she hadn’t given up on him.

“Shall I send her some information?” Emma asked. “I could make you sound really good.”

“I’ll take care of it. Forward the request to me at Romatech.”

Emma chuckled. “All right. Good luck.” She rang off.

Robby snapped his phone shut, still grinning.

“Let me guess.” Jean-Luc smiled. “You need to return to Romatech right away.”

“Aye, I do.”

Jean-Luc slapped him on the shoulder. “Go get her,
mon ami.
”

Jean-Luc slapped him on the shoulder. “Go get her,
mon ami.
”

R
obby sat at the desk in the security office at Romatech, frowning at his MacKay S&I

file on the computer screen. What information should he send to Olivia? He could disclose some of his recent

activities, but most of his personnel file was off limits.

Birth: October 21, 1719. Scotland.

Death: April 16, 1746. Culloden, Scotland.

Transformation: Sired by Angus MacKay.

There was no way around it. He’d have to send Olivia a pack of lies.

Phineas McKinney lounged in a chair, watching the wall of security monitors. “I’m bored.” He propped his feet

up on another chair. “At least I have something to do tonight. I’m supposed to meet Stan the Snitch in twenty

minutes. You want to tag along?”

“Nay, I’m busy.” Robby began typing his response to Olivia, using the generic MacKay S&I e-mail address.

“Are you kidding?” Phineas asked. “I thought you hated Stan. You could threaten him with bodily harm and

watch him squirm. It’ll be fun, bro.”

Robby shrugged one shoulder. “’Tis Casimir I really want to kill. Stan is more useful as an informant.” He

glanced up. “Have ye learned anything from him?”

“No. The Russians in Brooklyn don’t know squat. Stan and I usually have a few Bleers while he gripes about

how crazy their leader Nadia is.” Phineas yawned. “He’s an okay dude once you get to know him.”

The door opened and Connor strode inside. “How’s it going?”

“Boring,” Phineas muttered. “Casimir needs to get his act together, so we can kick some ass again.”

Connor arched a brow. “When is the last time ye practiced yer fencing? If ye want to kick ass, ye need to stay

prepared.”

“You want to rumble, Scotty?” Phineas sat up. “I’ll take you on. Name the time and place of your humiliating

defeat.”

Connor’s mouth twitched. “Three A.M., the back garden, claymores. The practice ones, of course. I doona

wish to do ye permanent harm.”

Phineas smirked. “Bring it on, dude. I’ve been practicing with Jack.”

Connor shrugged. “I can beat Jack with one hand tied behind my back.”

“Ha!” Phineas scoffed. “I heard Jack cut your little ponytail off with his foil.”

Connor chuckled, then turned to Robby. “How about you? Ye want to fight the winner? Which would be me, of

course.”

Phineas snorted.

“I’m busy.” Robby frowned at the monitor.

“He’s romancing a hot babe,” Phineas whispered loudly.

“Piss off,” Robby muttered.

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Are ye serious? Ye’re no’ involved with a mortal, are ye?”

“None of yer business.” Robby typed a few more words, then changed his mind and deleted them.

“It
is
our business if ye intend to tell her our secrets,” Connor grumbled.

Robby glanced at him. “Maybe ye enjoy being alone for yer entire miserable existence, but I’d like to find

someone to share my life with.”

Connor groaned. “Another hopeless romantic. And for yer information, I doona consider myself miserable.”

Phineas snorted. “Show of hands. Who thinks Connor’s a miserable old gasbag?” He waved his hand in the

air while giving Robby a pointed look.

Robby smiled and lifted his hand.

Connor rolled his eyes. “I could insult ye both now, but I’ll just wait till I have ye pinned to the ground, begging

for mercy.”

“We’ll see who does the begging, bro,” Phineas said.

Robby drummed his fingers on the desk. He didn’t know what age he should claim. “How old would ye say I

look?”

“I’d say…thirty-three.” Phineas winced when Robby made a face. “I meant thirty. Not a day over thirty.”

“How old were ye when Angus changed you?” Connor asked.

“How old were ye when Angus changed you?” Connor asked.

“I was twenty-seven.” Robby gave Phineas an annoyed look. “Life was tougher back then. Everyone aged

faster.”

“Just make up a number, bro. How would she ever know the truth?”

Robby groaned inwardly. Sooner or later he would have to tell her the truth. “I’ll say I’m twenty-nine.” It