Because Your Vampire Said So

"Once again, Zerina, you've done a fab job of pissing off the wrong people." Terran sighed as she sheathed her sword.



Zerina couldn't say much, seeing as how I was squeezing the breath out of her. Gabriel laid a hand on my arm. My skin tingled at the contact.



"Zee isn't the most tactful person, but we like having her around."



"I won't ask you twice." I dropped her bony ass onto the chaise and she scrambled off it. I got the distinct impression she was both shocked and pissed off, but I didn't care. I watched her hurry toward a dark tunnel a few feet away.



"She's a fairy. Glamour doesn't work on her," Gabriel said.



"Yeah, well, fear seemed to do the trick." If he thought I gave a crap about Zerina being a fairy, he was wrong.



Nerve-wracked, I turned and studied the fountain. Man alive, I just knew I'd seen that woman before. Had it been as a human or as a vampire? I'd never been normal, not even as a human being, much as I tried. As a vampire, I'd pretty much left normal behind for good. I slept through the day and drank blood and could see ghosts.



I heard footsteps and turned. Wilson exited the tunnel, followed by Zerina. She shot me a look of pure pissed off, but I didn't care. Relief cascaded through me as I hurried toward Wilson with every intention of yanking him into my arms.



He avoided the embrace.



He seemed relieved to see me, but he couldn't stop resenting me long enough to just hug me. Hurt crowded my chest, but I tried not to show it.



Zerina smirked. "He ain't got no respect for no one, has he? Not even the only one here who loves 'im. Arsehole."



She practically skipped back to her chaise and her books. I almost followed and throttled her right then and there because doing so would be easier than admitting she was right.



Wilson didn't respect me. He was too caught up in his own fears and failures to try to see beyond his world and into mine. He was punishing me for his childhood, for his dad's leaving, for my staying - hell, I had a whole list of sins to pay for. Some weren't even mine, but I felt the weight of the guilt. I took the penalties.



Isn't that what you did when you loved someone more than your ownself?



"Thanks for saving my son," I said, hearing the catch in my own voice. "How do we get out of here?"



"You must stay with us. It is our duty to protect you," said Terran. Zerina snorted at this proclamation, but one look from Gabriel shut her up.



"You are the foretold ruler," he said.



"Why don't you tell her the rest," goaded Zerina.



"For the love of God!" I wheeled around and glared at him. The people who had not yet revealed themselves backed up into the shadows. "Cut the crap, all right? I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm out."



"Huh. She doesn't strike me as queenly," said Zerina.



"That's enough, Zee," snapped Gabriel. "She is the one named by the prophecy."



Oh, here we go again! I looked at Gabriel. "Y'know, I don't understand anything that's gone on since the day we met."



Wilson flopped onto one of the empty couches. He stared moodily at the fountain, pretending not to care. But he was listening. He was storing up every word spoken. I imagine he would have plenty to say about me and Gabriel.



Zerina extracted a book from her pile. The cover sported a big, black wolf howling up at the moon. The title was Werewolves Are Real! by Theodora Maribelle Monroe.



Brows raised, I looked at her.



"Page twenty-three," she said. "It's book-marked. "



I took the werewolf book and thumbed through the pages until I got to the right page. I read:



Legend of the Loup de Sang



In 1807, a small group of loup-garou immigrated from France to the town of Vincennes, the capital city in Indian Territory. In nine years, the area would become Indiana, the nineteenth state admitted to the Union.



Among the new arrivals was the widow Chantelle Marchand, who was eight months pregnant. Destitute and in need of protection from those who'd killed her husband, Chantelle made the long, treacherous journey to the United States to live with her father, Jacques Marchand.



Several years earlier, Marchand had come to the States and been among the first French traders to settle the area. He was the alpha of the local pack, and lived with his people in a community outside Vincennes.



Not long after Chantelle arrived, a territorial dispute erupted among the loup-garou and the deamhan fola, or vampires (read more about these creatures in my book: Vampires Are Real!).



One evening, the vampires viciously attacked the werewolves. The battle was intense and gruesome.



Chantelle was among the casualties.



As she lay dying, her father delivered a boy, whom they called Gabriel. Fortunately, Chantelle was able to see her son moments before she passed from the earthly plane. However, the newborn had been affected by the vampire's attack on his mother.



Translated from the diary of Jacques Marchand:



I write these words with a heavy heart. My beloved Chantelle is dead, but the child I cut from her womb lives.



He is an abomination. Yet I cannot bring myself to rid the world of this creature. It is the fault of the vampires. They took my daughter's life and cursed my grandchild.



Gabriel will not take milk. It is only by accident that I discovered his true sustenance: blood. He sleeps all day and stays up all night. Sunlight hurts him. Yet his heart beats. And he breathes.



The vampire who killed Chantelle tried to Turn her. I know the laws of the Ancients: No vampire will feed upon the flesh of lycanthropes, nor mate with them, nor Turn them.



By the time I arrived, the poison of the deamhan fola raced in my daughter's veins. Killing him so quickly was a mistake. He should've suffered for his sins.



Already whispers and rumors run through the pack about my grandchild, the loup de sang. Soon, they will call a Council and demand action. I am the alpha. I must do what is best for the pack.



Marchand never again wrote about his grandchild, whom he called loup de sang, or blood wolf. To this day, rumors abound about Gabriel. Given that most werewolves live into their eight hundreds (and who knows how long loup de sang lived!), Gabriel is in the prime of his life.



That is, if his grandfather did not kill him.



I looked at Gabriel. "Is this true?"



"Yes. It's just like I told you before, Patricia. I was born into both worlds. And yet, I am not part of either one."



I shut the book. I couldn't imagine running for your lives for two hundred years. I wondered how Arin and Terran got hooked up with him. Not to mention Zerina. How did you bring an irritable fairy into a lycanthrope family?



I thought I'd gotten a raw deal getting Turned into a vampire, but Gabriel had been born one. It was one thing to have your life irrevocably changed and quite another to have a life you couldn't change.



"And this prophecy everyone keeps going on about?"



Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but the words that echoed into the cave were not his.



"What the bloody hell have you done?" The shouted accusation arrived about five seconds before the man did. He appeared in a poof of white smoke. He was tall and thin, wearing a black robe with gold edging. The hood was thrown back. His hair was gray and shaggy, his face pockmarked and wrinkled. I couldn't begin to guess his age, but he was old. His dark brown eyes took in the surroundings, landing on me last.



"Patricia! We thought you were..."



"Dead?" supplied Zerina in a tone suggesting she wished that were the case.



The man stalked toward Gabriel, waving his toothpick arms. "What were you thinking, boy? I told you not to go back."



His gold eyes flashed with anger. "You know I cannot leave my mate in danger, Arin." He brushed a loose curl away from my cheek. "I returned to you, Patricia. I recall you were rather happy to see me."



That little reminder made me shut up.



Arin turned to Gabriel. "We must stay the course. No more going off on your own."



"I'll go wherever I like," said Gabriel. "Especially if Patricia needs me."



The man sighed as he walked between the couches and looked at Wilson. "Who is this?"



"The queen's son," answered Zerina. "Guess that makes him the prince."



Wilson's eyes widened as he chewed on that thought.



I stepped between the men, my gaze on the new guy. "Don't fill his head up with ideas," I said. "What's going on? Who are you?"



"My name is Arin," he said. "Terran is my daughter. And I've known this arrogant whelp all his life."



Gabriel growled. I blinked up at him. He looked as fierce as he did in his wolf form. "We do not have time for games. Our plan did not take into account the Ancients' war."



Arin sighed. "You can't simply walk up to an unsuspecting Turn-blood, announce that she is savior of two peoples, and expect her to rejoice. "



"Thank you," I said. Then I frowned. "What?"



Gabriel's agitation was palpable. "They hid Lorcan's condition from everyone. I have been shunned since birth, but the Consortium mutants enjoy freedom and respect!"



"Patience is a quality you have to yet cultivate, boy. The prophecy is on the cusp of coming true. But you cannot force it. Given your impudence, you might well have delayed it."



What was this crapola? Mostly the Consortium did whatever it wanted and I didn't give a rat's ass as long as I got to keep my way of life. But what little had been left of my life was gone. The sudden realization that I would never walk back into my beauty shop buckled my knees.



Gabriel wrapped his arm around me and drew me into his embrace. I let him do it. I hadn't wanted to think about why I felt so connected to him.



"Hua Mu Lan has turned against the Ancients," said Terran. "She's joined with Koschei."



Arin swung away from us and paced in front of the fountain. "Lia is impetuous and enjoys her power. It is not surprising she would align with Koschei."



"Wait a minute. That snotty bitch with the stupid name blew up my house?" I couldn't wrap my brain around this idea. What about that horrid little apparition hanging around her and that god awful stench? "She stinks."



"That's a mild way of putting it," said Terran.



"No, I mean it literally. My friend Jessica said that Fran?ois smelled like garbage." I received blank looks. "He's the vampire who tried to kill Jess a few months back. Anyway, she was the only one who noticed the stench. And he had the Taint."



Everyone in the room stared at me. Oh, hell. Why had I opened my big mouth? Now, wait a minute. If the smell was attached to the ugly spirit, then it made sense that I was the only one who'd noticed it.



"She had a nasty ghost pet," I offered. "Maybe that thing was what stank to high heaven."



"What did it look like?" asked Arin.



"A big black spot with two white marble-looking eyes."



"Definitely not a ghost." Arin walked to the desk and started digging through a pile of books. "I didn't realize you also had the ability to see demon spirits."



"Me, either." I didn't want to see demons. Hell, I didn't want to see ghosts. I couldn't help but think about how I'd touched Durga - and maybe that was why I saw the demon hanging around Lia. Then I'd touched Lia and almost set Patrick's hair on fire.



"The demon attacking the Turn-bloods is Durga's pet," I said. "We had a run-in earlier."



"Koschei's recruited one more Ancient to his cause," said Zerina. She sounded utterly delighted at the prospect. It made me wonder what sins the Ancients had committed against her.



"If that's so," said Arin gravely, "we are in for a bigger battle than I feared."