The Vampire and the Virgin

"That's all ye're thinking about, lad. Ye're obsessed."



"And much too angry," Emma added.



"Of course I'm angry!" Robby shouted. "The bloody bastards tortured me for two nights."



"You need to get past your anger," Emma said gently.



Robby scoffed. "Believe me, my anger will be miraculously cured once I've killed the bastards."



Angus sighed. "Lad, ye're a loose cannon. I'm ordering you to take some time off."



Robby glowered at his great-great-grandfather. As the CEO of MacKay Security & Investigation, Angus was his boss. And his sire. Angus had transformed him as he lay dying on the battlefield at Culloden, so Robby felt an extremely close bond. His fierce sense of loyalty had kept him strong during captivity and torture. He'd managed to endure the pain without betraying his family and friends.



But he also had plenty of money set aside. He didn't need to work for MacKay S&I. He could look for Casimir on his own.



"I can guess what ye're thinking, lad," Angus said softly. "Doona consider it. Ye're too full of rage to take off on yer own. And ye're too weak. That makes a lethal combination. Ye'll get yerself killed."



"Yer confidence in me is touching."



"Robby." Emma touched his arm. "We do believe in you. You just need some time to recover. That's all we ask."



He groaned inwardly. He hated to admit it, but they had a point. Maybe a week off wouldn't be too bad. He could lift weights, get his strength back, then go after Casimir and kill him. "All right. I'll...think about it."



"Excellent." Emma smiled. "I know the perfect place for you. The West Coast Coven Master invited you to stay at their vacation spot in Palm Springs. It's a luxury resort and spa just for Vamps."



Robby blinked. "A...spa?"



"Yes. They have all the latest, state-of-the-art equipment. Jacuzzis that will be wonderful for your hands and feet. Fully trained physical therapists. An Olympic-sized heated swimming pool. A huge exercise room - "



"They do fencing and martial arts?" Robby asked. He could use some practice with his sword.



"Well, actually, they're more into Pilates and yoga." When Robby snorted, she raised a hand to stop his objection. "Now listen. Those are excellent exercises for gaining flexibility and balance. You need that right now."



"And do ye expect me to kill Casimir by holding a yoga pose for thirty seconds?"



Emma frowned. "There you go again with the killing. This obsession is not healthy, Robby. You're lucky to be alive. You need to learn how to smell the roses again. Yoga will help you relax and find your center."



"I doona think I ever lost it." He touched his flat stomach.



"If you don't want to do yoga, fine," Emma snapped. "I was looking at their brochure, and they have lots of ways to help you achieve inner peace. There's the hydrothermic massage in the Tropical Tranquility Grotto or the rejuvenating body wrap with aromatic oils. When's the last time you exfoliated?"



Robby looked at Angus. "Is she still speaking English?"



Angus snorted. "Show respect to yer elders, lad."



"Are ye joking? I'm a few centuries older than her."



"True." Emma's mouth twitched. "But when I married Angus, I became your great-great grandmother."



"Stepgrandmother," Robby corrected her, then arched a brow. "Make that evil stepgrandmother."



She laughed. "That may be, since I expect you to stay at the spa for at least three months."



"What?" Robby gave her and Angus an incredulous look. "Ye canna be serious. If I doona practice with my sword for three months, I willna be fit for duty."



"They also have an excellent Vamp psychologist - "



"Nay!" Robby interrupted her. Now he knew why they were pushing this damned spa on him. "I'm no' going to a psychologist."



"Lad," Angus began. "Ye're suffering from post-traumatic - "



"I know damned well what I suffered. I doona need to whine about it to a therapist. 'Tis a complete waste of time." There was no way he was going to talk about what had happened to him. Why on earth would he describe every painful, humiliating detail? It would be torture all over again. No, it was much better to simply put the whole nasty ordeal behind him. And kill the bastards.



Emma took a deep breath. "If we made it an order - "



"Then I would quit," Robby interrupted again. He could hunt down Casimir on his own.



Angus gave his wife a sympathetic look. "I knew he wouldna agree to yer fancy spa, but ye gave it a good try." He glanced at Robby. "We doona want you to quit, lad. We just want you to get better, both in body and mind."



"I'm no' crazy," Robby growled.



"Nay, but ye're angry as hell, and it makes you too unstable for work. No' only would ye be risking yer own life, but the lives of anyone working with you."



Bugger. Robby ground the tip of his sword against the brick pathway. Angus knew exactly how to get to him. He could never put the lives of his friends at risk. "I might agree to a short vacation. That's all."



"Good." Angus nodded. "Ye can use our castle in Scotland, or Jean-Luc has offered his home in Paris."



"Been there, done that," Robby mumbled. He'd been head of security for Jean-Luc in Paris for ten years.



"Jack said ye could use his palazzo in Venice," Angus continued.



"Does everyone want rid of me?" Robby grumbled.



"We all want you to get better," Emma insisted. "Roman offered his villa in Tuscany or his new one on Patmos."



"Patmos?" He'd never been there before.



"'Tis a Greek isle," Angus explained. "Verra lovely, I hear."



"It's where Saint John envisioned Revelations and the end of the world," Emma added.



"Well, that's comforting." Robby shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. Whatever. I'll go for a week or two."



"Four months," Angus said.



Robby gaped. "What? The spa was only three months."



"The spa had a therapist," Angus reminded him. "We figure if ye're on yer own, ye'll need more time. Of course, ye could change yer mind about therapy - "



"No. Hell, no."



"Then four months it is," Angus said. "All expenses paid. Plus yer usual salary. Ye canna beat that, lad."



Emma smiled. "We'll see you at Christmas, and you'll be so much better."



Better, his arse. This wasn't a vacation. It was a bloody exile. Imprisoned on an island like Napoleon. But then, Napoleon escaped from his first island. Robby figured he could do the same. For a Vamp with teleportation abilities, it would be easy. And no one would ever know.



CHAPTER 2



Island of Patmos, three months later...



Olivia Sotiris eased the back door shut. It had to be about one-thirty in the morning, she guessed, but her inner clock was still on Central Standard Time.



Her ferry had arrived in the port of Skala that afternoon, and her grandmother was there, waiting with a young taxi driver who just happened to be single. After driving them the short distance to the Sotiris home in Grikos, the young Greek had stowed her luggage in the guest room, then taken them to a local taverna.



The whole village had gathered there to gawk at Eleni Sotiris's American granddaughter. And according to Eleni, every eligible bachelor on the island was in attendance.



Olivia endured several hours of gentle scolding in broken English from the older villagers. Her crime: not visiting Yia Yia, her poor grandmother, for six long years. It didn't matter that she saw her every Christmas in Houston, where her family lived and her grandmother migrated for a few months every winter. Olivia was still guilty of breaking her poor old widowed grandmother's heart.



At the time, her grandmother was bouncing across the dance floor with a line of young men, happily yelling "Opa!" and breaking plates, so Olivia decided this was one guilt trip she could decline. She drank more wine than usual, hoping it would help her sleep, but here she was, two hours later, wide awake.



And once again she questioned her reason for coming. Her supervisor had insisted she take time off, but part of her argued that running away from a problem never solved it. She should have faced the monster again. She should have told him the game was over. No more sick manipulation. But what if running away just proved he was still pulling the strings?



A chilly breeze swept off the sea and up the rocky bluff to the courtyard of her grandmother's house. Olivia snuggled her white blanket tighter around her green cotton pajamas. She wouldn't think about him anymore. He couldn't find her here.



She breathed in crisp, salty air. It was wonderfully quiet, with just the sound of waves breaking on the beach and the breeze ruffling the tamarisk trees. So peaceful. Except that her feet were freezing on the tile floor.



She padded across the courtyard. It was much the same as she remembered. On her last visit, the summer after graduating from high school, her father had built the arbor that covered a small section on the left. The grapevines had grown, their branches curling like snakes around the wooden frame. In the dark shade of the arbor, she could barely see the familiar wooden table and four chairs.



The rest of the enclosed courtyard had been left open to the sky, and a half-moon shone down, reflecting off the whitewashed walls of Yia Yia's house and the waist-high walls enclosing the patio. Three large clay pots, each one holding a small lemon tree, lined up along the right wall. Around the base of each tree, green clumps of parsley and mint grew. In the far corner, a pot of red geraniums stood guard by the stone steps that wound to the beach below.



Next to the geraniums, she recognized the telescope her father had given Yia Yia for Christmas last year. An excellent present, she thought as she glanced up at the night sky. So many stars. They were never this bright in the cities back home.



She reached the far wall, leaned her elbows on top and peered down at the beach. The moon glittered on the dark sea and gleamed off the white sand.



"You cannot sleep, child?"



Olivia whirled around. "Yia Yia, I didn't mean to wake you."



"I'm a very light sleeper these - " Her grandmother's eyes narrowed. "Are you barefoot?"



Before Olivia could explain that she'd forgotten to pack house shoes, her grandmother scurried back inside, muttering about scorpions. A minute later she reappeared with some bright red booties.



"These are one size fits all, which means they are too big for me." She tossed them on the floor next to Olivia. "Your brother, Nicolas, gave those to me for Christmas. What was he thinking? A woman my age in red boots?"



Olivia smiled as she draped her blanket over the courtyard wall, then leaned against it to pull on the boot-shaped house shoes. Her brother probably thought the same thing everyone in the family thought. Eleni Sotiris never acted her age, unless it got her something she wanted. Her hair might be gray, but it was still long and thick. Right now, it hung in a long braid over her shoulder. She was still active, her eyes still sharp, and her brain even sharper.



Eleni cinched the belt tighter on her blue terry-cloth bathrobe. "Tell me what's troubling you, child."



"I'm fine. Just jet lag and - " Olivia stopped when she felt a flash of anger emanating from her grandmother. "Sorry. I'm used to telling people I'm fine when I'm...not."



Eleni sighed. "I understand, but you should know better than to lie to me."



Olivia nodded, relieved that her grandmother's anger had quickly dissolved. She knew all about her grandmother's strange gift, for she was the only grandchild to inherit it. They could both tell when a person was lying. And they could sense people's emotions.



"I've known you all your life, but I've never seen you this...frazzled," Eleni continued. "You were happy and relieved when you arrived, then you were annoyed with me during the party."



Olivia winced. "Sorry."



Eleni waved a hand in dismissal. "No matter. That's what family's for. But there is something else troubling you. Something...dark. And hidden."



Olivia groaned inwardly. It was hidden. She'd been repressing it for months. "There is a problem, but I-I don't want to talk about it." She took the blanket off the wall and wrapped it around her shoulders.



"It frightens you," Eleni whispered.



Olivia's eyes welled with tears. He frightened her.



Her grandmother looped an arm around her and pulled her close. "Don't be afraid, child. You're safe now."



She hugged her grandmother and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. Yia Yia had always been the one she relied upon, the one she told her secrets to. When she was young and struggling to adjust to her empathic abilities, it was only her grandmother who understood.



Eleni patted her on the back. "Who is frightening you? Is it a man?"



Olivia nodded.



"Did the bastard mistreat you? I could send your brothers after him to teach him a lesson."



Olivia laughed. Her skinny younger brothers would have trouble intimidating a Chihuahua. As usual, her grandmother had chased away the tears.



"You just leave this to me. I'll find a good man for you." Eleni stepped back and tilted her head. "Did you like any you met tonight?"



Olivia groaned. "I'm not looking for a husband."



"Of course you are. What are you, twenty-four? I had three babies by the time I was your age."



Olivia grimaced. "I have a career. A master's degree."