A Warrior for Her

2. Unbelievably Sweet

2

UNBELIEVABLY SWEET

I wait until Jo settles in the driver’s seat and closes the door. “Please stop reading my mind now, Jo. I will talk to you, I promise, but I need my thoughts to myself at the moment.”

She rests her palm on my cheek. “Oui, chérie, I am blocking you now. It is plain enough that you are hurting, exhausted, and confused. Talk when you are ready.”

I rub my face into her smooth, cool hand like a kitten. “I don’t know what to think, Jo.” She drops her hand and starts the car. I continue as she backs out of the parking spot. “Emma said she can’t tell me what she is, that she never could. That I’m not even supposed to say what she is out loud. She has to get permission to talk to me. I just don’t understand any of this, Jo. Emma’s an adult. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Her best friend. We shared everything with each other. I thought.”

Jo glances at me and her voice is carefully neutral. “Libby, chérie, among those of us that are…different, there are rules in place for the protection of all. I can believe that Emma could not tell you.”

Since the day Emma and I met I’ve never noticed anything different about her, other than her effortless movie-star beauty, and being the focus of rapt attention no matter what she does. Is that part of it? “Why were you so upset when you met her? Is there something I need to know about them?”

Jo grips the steering wheel so tightly it creaks in protest. “Chérie, vampire and fae have been at war for centuries. We are sworn enemies under a tenuous treaty at best. The fae are proud beings, in love with themselves, beauty, material things, power. Like vampire, some fae are uniquely gifted, though those gifts differ throughout the species. While we are both immortal, their affinity with glamour means they blend seamlessly into human society, much more easily than vampire. But they’d never be able to hide in plain sight in their true form. Understand, all fae are at least as dangerous as we. They see humans as a dependent race. Fae are completely untrustworthy and they are insatiable—absolutely corrupted by power, which leads them to acts of brutality and violence. They revel in chaos. For millennia, the fae incited human wars with their greed. They still do.”

I swallow hard. Holy…there are scarier things out there than vampire? “Okay. But that doesn’t sound like the Emma I grew up with. In fact, her parents were pretty strict. They taught her not to take anything for granted, especially their money or her good looks. Ohmygosh! This means her parents are fae!”

The worry on Jo’s face bothers me even more, because I know it’s for me. I fight to control my emotions. I don’t want her to feel that she needs to stop talking because it’s upsetting me. My attempts to calm myself must work because she finally answers me. “It stands to reason that only one of her parents is fae. She was well concealed until seeing me surprised her into momentarily dropping her shield. However, what I sensed was weak, which makes me think she is half, like me.”

Though everything I’ve read about vampire isn’t true, enough things are that I wonder about all the myths regarding fairies. “Are all fae beautiful?”

If so, that leaves out her mom. Emma’s mom is as plain as they come. And, brutal? Not even close. I’ve never met a more nurturing and kind person. On the other hand, Emma’s father is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen, even in movies. But, violent? Again. Not in the slightest. Gah!

“In the ancient past, fae were known for their unparalleled beauty. Today, many use glamour to bring back a semblance of their former appearance, though their malevolence eludes even that magic.”

“So, okay, it must be her father. But he doesn’t fit the profile other than looks. He’s so good and kind.” I feel even more confused now. I lean back in the seat and reach for Jo’s hand. Her touch makes me feel marginally better. Palpable exhaustion threatens to drag me under. The stress has brought all of my healing injuries to the forefront, and I’m achy and sore. Since the Ankylosing Spondylitis started flaring a couple of years ago, I’ve become accustomed to a certain level of chronic pain and fatigue. But this is above and beyond even a flare up. Add to that my fragile emotional state? I hate to admit it, but coming out tonight was a mistake on more than one level. I blink back tears. I just wanted a night of normalcy. Of fun. I never thought I’d see anyone I loved again, and I wanted to celebrate. Now? Jo leaves me to my thoughts as we drive the rest of the way to her place.

I come awake with a start to find someone leaning across me. Though on some level I know it is Jo, the panic only sees a figure looming over me and my vision darkens. My heart pounds but before I can put words to my growing terror, Jo’s deep voice rumbles gently and her sensual evergreen scent wraps around me. I focus hard on her words. “It is only I, chérie. You are in the car. Feel the seat under you and at your back. Feel the seat belt across your chest and your lap. Feel my hands on your shoulders. Hear my voice and the crickets and cicadas singing. Now, tell me—what can you see?”

With effort, I push the panic away and feel my vision clear. I give her a weak smile. “Your handsome face. Okay. Okay. I’m all right. I’m okay.” Irritated with myself, I fumble with the seat belt as Jo eases back. She hands me my cane and helps me to stand. “That one was quick. I’m getting better.” I’m not sure which of us I’m trying harder to convince.

The look on Jo’s face tells me I am not convincing her at all. I sigh as she turns to walk me to the house. Victor and Stan flank us, and I stifle my irritation at feeling hemmed in. After all, I remind myself, the first time I was kidnapped it happened here. They can’t risk Jo’s fury if it happens again. I turn toward the stately tree, just visible in the pale moonlight, at the far end of the meadow fronting Jo’s property. I was sitting at its base when the vampire Travis drugged me and took me to Jo’s father so he could torture me while blackmailing Jo. I can’t fully suppress the shudder that ripples through me.

Jo grasps my elbow, concern wrinkling her forehead. Gah! What the heck! This can’t keep happening. I give her a frustrated smile. “I’m still here.”

PTSD has plagued me since I was first kidnapped and tortured, so I’m getting help from a talented Naiad therapist named Naomi. She understands this world, and I can be open with her about what happened. We talk once a week. Until I was kidnapped a second time, I was gaining ground. But what happened in the militants’ compound seems to have set me back. A lot more than I want to admit.

Jo turns to my bodyguards. “Inform Thatcher I need to see him—and to send a fresh team to guard my suite. Aella will be there until they relieve her. You have the night off to hunt.” A mismatched pair, I don’t know them yet. They were just assigned since Dex and Beatrice were injured trying to protect me. I’m anxious for them to come back. Victor is a stocky brunette while his partner is leanly muscled like the rugby player he likely was. They bow to us, and I watch them fade silently into the darkness.

It goes without saying that Jo meant for them to hunt animals rather than people. As part of the agreement made with any vampire who seek it, Jo and her oldest friend and business partner, Niall offer protection, employment, room, and board. All this comes at the low, low cost of leaving humans alone and swearing allegiance to Jo and Niall. To sweeten the deal, there is a steady supply of human blood available when hunting game isn’t feasible, thanks to the blood banks Jo and Niall operate around the world.

Jo wraps her arm around me. “It does not surprise me to see your struggle, not considering what the last three days have been like for you, chérie. There is no shame if you allow me to carry you up to my suite.”

Wow, do I appreciate that she asked me this time. My gratitude puts a smile in my eyes. “Thank you, Jo. Really. But I’ve been carried into this house far too many times for my comfort. Stay beside me?”

“Toujours, chérie. Always.”

Now that is just unbelievably sweet.

Aella meets us at the top of the stairs to escort us (okay me) down the hall to Jo’s suite. I can’t stop the surreptitious looks I keep sending the woman. I’m afraid I’m suffering from a big case of she-ro worship. Step aside Wonder Woman, Aella’s the real thing, a true descendent of some long-gone race of warrior women. I shake my head. Gah. I just don’t know what to believe any longer. Naiads, vampire, fae. Next, I’ll be learning zombies are real. Gods no. Anything but brain-eating monsters, please.

By the time we reach her sitting room, it’s all I can do to make it to the couch before I collapse into the cushions, my bad leg straight out in front of me. Before Jo can join me, there’s a knock on the door. She opens it to a tall man with an unmistakable military bearing.

Commander Thatcher, Jo and Niall’s head of security, bows deeply. “Jo. How may I serve you?”

Jo steps out, forcing the man back a few steps and pulls the door behind her, but not all the way closed. Thankfully, I have no trouble following their conversation, though they talk in lowered voices.

“How Commander? I will tell you how you may serve me. You will start by telling me why I have had no knowledge of a fae living in our territory until I met his daughter tonight!”

Thatcher sputters, shock evident in his voice. “A what? Where? Tonight? He-he cannot have been here long. Surely he is simply—passing through?”

“Merde, Commander! The chien has been living in our territory for decades, at least. And he must be strong to have hidden from us, and his offspring, so completely. He is using the name O’Shea. I want a full report on everything you can get on him. Yesterday.”

“On it. Shall I summon reinforcements? Do you want me to inform the—”

Jo cuts him off. “Not yet. He has been here this long without launching any attacks. Unless…”

“Jo?”

She sighs, sounding more tired than I have ever heard. “For now, just gather all the intel on him that you can. I have some things to look into. If I find out he is behind our troubles…I will let you know. In the meantime, I want to know his every move, starting tonight.”

“Very good. And this daughter?”

“A halfling. Either she is strong enough to create quite convincing glamour or she’s so weak someone else does it for her. I can see why my lady’s teams missed it before. I wouldn’t have caught on if she hadn’t reacted to me so strongly. I’ll expect a full report on her as well.”

My heart pounds out of fear for Emma and her family. Jo closes the door firmly behind her and by the time she settles beside me, she at least is calm.

“Are you going to explain to me what all that was about? You suspect Mr. O’Shea of doing something. What? What are you going to do?”

Jo takes my hand and kisses the back of it, then flattens my palm against her cheek. She lets out a deep breath. “Nothing tonight, I promise. Please. We have both had enough, oui?”

I study her for a beat, then nod. Goodness knows I’m exhausted. “For now.”

Releasing my hand, she leans over and nuzzles my neck. “How do you feel, chérie? And please, tell me the truth. I still am not reading you.”

The warning that she will if she catches me lying hangs in the air between us. I don’t know how, but she will know if I lie, even without reading my mind. I understand her warning. I think. At least I’m trying to. Jo comes from a time when women needed and expected to be taken care of. Out of that came a tendency to control. And trust me, Jo is all about control. It’s how she protects and rules so many vampires when she is only half-vampire herself. It’s how she, along with her mentor Niall, keeps an international business thriving. And, I’m learning, it’s one of the ways she shows she loves me.

Darcy leaps onto the couch beside me and pushes his head into my hand, purring. As I scratch the white patch under his chin, I meet her gaze and hold it. “Okie dokie then, Jo. Here’s the truth: My nose and cheek ache. My knee hurts more than usual from falling on it. And I’m beat, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Tonight took a toll I was unprepared to pay.”

Jo strokes my hair. “Will you allow me to call Louis?”

I’ve been hesitant to let them fully heal me from this set of injuries since my bodyguards were so gravely injured. Apparently, and I’m sorry I know this now, vampire can regrow severed limbs. But even in vampire terms, it’s a long, painful, and arduous process. But Beatrice and Dex will be fine in another day or two. And though trying to kill François was only doing what I had to do to survive, I’m not proud of my actions. Still, I kind of feel as though I’ve suffered enough. With a mild sense of shame, I nod at Jo.

Her fingers fly over her cell and seconds later a knock sounds at the door. Darcy leaps nimbly to the floor and slinks into the bedroom. Jo opens the door to a distinguished-looking gentleman in pressed black slacks and a crisp white button-up shirt, who appears to be in his 50s. His former life as a majordome continues to dictate his dress and mannerisms.

He bows low to Jo and me. “Mademoiselle, how may I be of assistance to you this evening?” Louis’ gentle voice is heavily accented with his native French. A licensed medical doctor in addition to his other list of accomplishments, he appraises my condition clinically.

“Louis, I’m ready to be healed.” I look away from his assessing gaze, trying to shake off the guilt.

“Have you eaten? Do you have a headache?”

Crap. I neglected to say anything about my pounding head to Jo. I glance guiltily at her and tuck loose strands behind my ear. “Yes, I ah, do have a headache. And, um, no, I haven’t eaten since…this afternoon, I guess.” It pains me to admit this. I’ve lost weight due to all the stress, trauma, and injuries and everyone is on my case to gain weight. “I’ve been queasy since…” I drop my eyes. “And I guess I still just don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Oui, I know this is true, mademoiselle. I am sorry.” The compassion in Louis’ voice raises my eyes to his. Winking at me, he and Jo exchange a look and there’s an undercurrent that worries me. And, irritatingly, it doesn’t look as if either one of them is planning to fill me in.

“Okay. What? What aren’t you telling me?”

On a frustrated sound, Jo turns back to me. “Due to the many injuries you have sustained of late, you have had a lot of vampire blood in a relatively short period of time.”

Yeah, no doubt about that. I’ve had a ton of healing to do after both kidnappings, plus all the times Jo dosed me without my knowledge when I was in pain due to my autoimmune disease.

“So, how much is too much? And what does it mean if I have too much? Will my senses be heightened again as they were when I had Niall’s blood? Will I be stronger? How long will it last this time?” The last time was only about a half-hour. I blush, remembering how those heightened senses played out as Jo and I showered together. Talk about an out-of-body experience. My n*****s tighten just thinking about it. But Louis’ words are a shot of cold water and thankfully they pull me back to the present.

“Mademoiselle, each time you take in vampire blood, it changes you in ways we can only guess at this point. These changes may not be evident right away. I have never dosed a human so much or so frequently. These amounts of blood will not change you into a vampire. But I must tell you, I do not know at what point any changes you experience may become long term or quite noticeable.” Louis’ kind eyes look troubled. “I want you to understand the risks.”

“I see. Well, let’s hope I don’t keep needing it, then, huh?”

“I could not agree more, mademoiselle. I will see if Charlene left anything that can be made into a snack for you. Give me a moment to put it all together, and I will be back tout de suite!”

Jo pulls me into her side and cuddles me while we wait. True to his word, the knock is at the door in no time and Jo just calls for him to come in without moving away from me.

Louis glides in bearing a tray. “It is not Charlene’s smoothie, but I managed to make a glass of chocolate milk to mask the flavor.” He winks at me and turns away with the glass. I start on the dish of cottage cheese while I wait.

Jo hands me the glass of chocolate milk, and I begin to drink it down right away, knowing the blood is stronger the fresher it is. Louis made it extra chocolaty, which means he is hiding more than a few drops of his blood. I try not to think about it as I drink. As I’ve come to expect, before half is gone, I feel loads better. I almost moan when my headache disappears entirely. Most outwardly obvious is the fading away of all those cuts. The pain in my face lessens dramatically and even my knee feels better than it has in a while. Though I do feel a bit more alert and energetic, it’s not by much. I suppose there was a lot to heal.

Well, darn. I hoped the blood would do more.

“Mademoiselle, the blood will not heal what ails you most. And I heard about what happened. Twice. I must ask that you please continue with the medication Naomi ordered for your PTSD.” The frequent night terrors and panic attacks especially worry me.

“Believe me, those attacks are no treat for me either. Don’t worry, I’ll keep taking the medicine. I know it could take a while before I really notice it making a difference.” Louis looks at me so strangely, I wonder what I said. “What?” When he just stares at me, I look over at Jo, hoping she will fill me in.

Can you hear me chérie?

“Of course, I can hear you, Jo.” And then I realize that her lips never moved. “Oh.” I look back and forth between them, trying to pick up any more of their thoughts, but I don’t. “Are you blocking me now or was that it?”

Louis bows to me. “I am afraid I am blocking you, mademoiselle. It is reflex to block unless we need to communicate in this way, out of respect for one another’s privacy. I leave it to Jo to experiment with the extent of this new…power. My prediction is that it will not last.” With practiced efficiency, he silently gathers the empty dishes onto the tray. “I bid you both bonne nuit.”

“Good night, Louis. And thank you.” I lean back as Louis lets himself out and Jo wraps her arms around me again.

How is your headache?

Her “voice” feels comforting in my head and I smile. Gone.

She traces the wide cut above my eye. Only a few of your deepest cuts are still visible. And they are faint. I do not believe you will scar.

That’s a relief, at least.

We aren’t looking at each other, but especially with her arms around me, there is an appealing intimacy to communicating this way. We talk for a few minutes. Darcy comes back out of the bedroom and stalks past us on his way to the bathroom. I hear him scratching in the litter box. Thank you again for letting Darcy come here, Jo. It means so much to me to have him with me.

But…course, chér…I … having him … I turn my head to look at her, as if eye contact would make her thoughts any clearer. But it isn’t like tuning in a station.

I frown. I think my new power is fading already.

“I am sorry, chérie.”

“It was nice to hear you in my head. Your—voice—felt good.”

“That is the bond we share, ma belle. Your voice in my head also brings comfort.” Jo strokes my hair. “Though you perked up a little, I know you are still tired. Let’s get comfortable.”

“I’d like that.” Jo gets up and holds out her hand. I take it, and she helps me stand, though the knee feels so good it’s hardly necessary. Still holding my hand, Jo guides me to the bedroom rather than the closet where my pajamas wait, and I begin to get an idea of what she has in mind.