Chasing Shadows

chapter Ten

Mark turned to me with an alarmed expression. “Are you for real?”

I nodded. “I’m afraid so. As a friend who has bonded once explained to me, our experiencing pure physical and emotional intimacy in the same moment completes the bond,” I told him. “So if something ever happened to you, I would be so heartbroken as to eventually be consumed by my grief.”

“But what if, God forbid, something happened to you? Would I die as well?”

“You would.”

“Of course,” Juliette mused softly. “I’d forgotten that vampire pair-bonding is virtually the same as imprinting among shapeshifters. In that first moment of dual intimacy, you exchanged a small part of your life force with one another, making it impossible for either of you to live without the other.”

Mark looked understandably ashen, and even though we both wore seat belts, he reached over and wrapped his arms around me, holding me for a moment before he said, “You told me you thought I would be human, that vampires almost always bond to humans. Doesn’t that kind of give you guys the short end of the stick, to dangle immortality in your faces only to have it cut off by the relatively short lifespan of a human being?”

“Very observant of you, brother,” Lochlan put in, “but what may surprise you is that when one of us bonds to a human, the metaphysical connection delays the aging process for that human. It doubles their life expectancy. But because it does not grant true immortality, most human bondmates are eventually turned.”

“So if it turns out that I’m not truly immortal, I can expect to live to anywhere between a hundred sixty and two hundred years old?”

Lochlan nodded. “Give or take a decade.”

Mark looked at me for a long moment. “Well then,” he said slowly, “if it becomes apparent that I’m not going to live forever, I want to be turned.”

“Absolutely not!” Juliette exclaimed. “Mark, think about what you’re saying, about what you’ll be giving up: No more sunrises, no more sunshine. You’ll only want to sleep during the day.”

“Lochlan is up right now,” Mark pointed out.

My brother cleared his throat. “The only reason I am wide awake right now is because I consumed the entire blood supply of a 400-pound porcine in order to spare your life and my sister grief,” Lochlan reminded him.

Juliette looked at him, again with widened eyes. “Saphrona said you fed on one of the pigs—you actually killed it?”

Loch nodded. “Aye. Meeting your brother awakened a bloodlust the likes of which I have not felt since I was newly turned,” he told her. “It was by no small effort that I was able to maintain my self-discipline and deny the urge to take his life right in front of Saphrona’s eyes. I may not share blood with her as you do with Mark, my lady, but she is my sister nonetheless, and I have no desire to cause her harm. I do not think I could live with myself if such a thing were to occur.”

The shapeshifter’s expression changed to one that I could not decipher, but before she could formulate a response, my brother continued. “Something else you’ll have to give up, Mark, is food, because the only thing you will be able to digest as a vampire is blood. It is the only thing you’ll want, and I for one dearly miss the taste of steak, pork, potatoes… I miss wine and water and tea, and I’ll never know what soda tastes like. Although you’d still be able to consume them, they’d be tasteless and do absolutely nothing for you, so all the things you enjoy eating and drinking now you may as well give up for good. Whoever Vivian Drake got her information from is right about one thing: this is not a life I would wish on anyone.”

“But what if it’s the life I’m meant to lead? I’ve known Saphrona only two days and already I can’t stand the thought of losing her, or leaving her alone in this world,” said Mark imploringly.

I reached one hand up to cup his cheek. “Mark, I don’t think I could put into words how much it means to me to hear you say that. Yet as much as I would like to keep you with me forever, as pleased as I am that you would want to be turned to stay with me, I suddenly find I can’t stand the thought of you giving up your life as you know it to become a vampire, just so I don’t have to give you up.”

“Look, how about this,” Juliette put in. “Put the thought of turning out of your mind. Don’t make any kind of decision about it now, when you’ve just met—wait until you know for sure whether you’re already immortal or not.”

“But how do we find out?” Mark asked. “If so many dhunphyr are killed outright, how will we ever know?”

“I know what we do,” I said. “We’ll just have to find another dhunphyr. If your stepmother and her pack managed to keep you hidden from us for thirty years, there’s bound to be another dhunphyr somewhere in the world.”

“You may well be right, Saphrona,” agreed Lochlan, “but supposing there is, do you not also think it possible that he or she is also hiding or being hidden for their own safety? Wouldn’t our finding this person put him or her in jeopardy?”

“I know, and I don’t relish the thought of endangering someone just to satisfy our curiosity,” I replied, then looked at Mark. “But at the same time, what other choice do we have?”



*****



Obviously, none of us had a clue as to where to start our search for other dhunphyr. Juliette said she would call her mother and ask her about getting the word out to other shifter communities, to see if they could provide any help or information. Lochlan and I both said we would speak to our various vampire contacts to see what information they could or would give us. Mark wondered whether our asking other vampires about immortal humans would arouse suspicions, but I said that I could easily say it was all related to my search for Vivian Drake’s source.

After we reached the farm, Lochlan bid Mark, Juliette, and I farewell and left. Mark took my hand and turned toward the back door, though I hesitated as I noticed Juliette still staring contemplatively down the driveway.

“Juliette, what is it?” I asked her.

“How is it that he’s not burning?” she mused. “I get why he’s awake—it’s because of how much blood he ingested, and now he’s juiced up like he had a keg’s worth of Red Bull. But how is it he’s not burning when his windshield is clear glass?”

I turned to her. “Juliette, do you recall that I said most of what I wrote in the Everland books was true?” I asked. When she nodded, I went on, saying, “Well, the whole bit about burning is just something I culled from popular vampire lore. Vampires don’t actually burn in the sun at all—it’s just a ridiculous myth.”

“Then what’s the real reason vampires—well, most vampires—don’t go out during the day?”

I glanced up at Mark, then back at his sister. “You know that human beings operate on a diurnal cycle, right? They’re inclined to be up during the day as a result of their biology. When they become vampires, their internal chemistry reverses, and their cycle becomes nocturnal. Not only that, the hormone that puts us all to sleep—melatonin—it’s produced in exponential amounts in a vampire during the day, making them practically comatose if they don’t consume blood regularly. I’m not affected that way because I got a normal pineal gland from my mother.”

Juliette nodded silently. I turned back for the house, where Mark was waiting for me on the stoop.

“Why didn’t you react to Mark the same way he did? Lochlan said he was hard-pressed not to kill him, yet even when you smelled his blood it didn’t faze you, unless it did and you’re just not telling me.”

I cast another glance at Mark and then turned once again to face his sister. “When Mark first came here the other day, the first thing I noticed about him was that he smelled human,” I said with a shrug. “That didn’t bother me because I’ve developed a resistance to the scent of humans. It wasn’t until we were within thirty feet of one another that my supe-sense told me he wasn’t human after all, and although there is still room for doubt based on what we know versus what some of us were led to believe, Lochlan thinks that means he is immortal.”

“Because otherwise, why would her spidey-sense have tingled, right, if all that was different about me was my advanced healing factor?” Mark added. “Plus, it occurred to me that I’m not just Wolverine, but Connor MacLeod, too.”

His sister raised an eyebrow. “What the deuce are you talking about?” she queried, crossing her arms and staring at him expectantly.

He stepped back down the stoop to stand next to me. “Remember me saying I was gonna consider myself that guy from Highlander until there was proof otherwise that I’m not immortal? Do you recall that he dies and comes back to life?”

Juliette nodded, but said, “You’ve never died, though, Mark. You’ve never woken in a cold box in the morgue.”

Mark pointed to the scar on his neck, which was just visible over the collar of his t-shirt. “This could have—should have—killed me. I know it as sure as I’m standing here, sis. Don’t you think that means something?”

I put a hand on his arm. “Maybe it does, honey, but I wrote the dhunphyr character in my books based on what I thought I knew about them. And if you really have read the books, you’d recall that immortal humans can still be killed.”

“By decapitation or destroying the heart, I remember,” he said. “Neither of which has happened or will happen to me.”

Mark reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, offering first me and then Juliette a reassuring smile. “Knowing what I do about what I am, I think there’s more to my survival of that explosion than my healing factor. There has to be, when I was so close to dying.”

“I sure hope you’re right, big brother.”

“Of course I am,” Mark said with a chuckle. “Big brothers are always right, don’t you know that?”

“And the blood?” Juliette said, looking at me and ignoring her brother’s quip.

“Juliette, when I saw the horse at the side of the driveway I knew that Mark had to have been hurt, and all I could think about was getting to him and making sure he was all right,” I told her. “Amazingly, the smell of his blood didn’t register, probably because I was so consumed with worry about him.”

“And because you hadn’t tasted it yet,” she pointed out. “What about now that you have? What assurances can you give us that you’re not just going to attack him?”

“Jules, don’t you remember the conversation we had in the car after we left the movie theater?” Mark reminded her.

“He’s right, Juliette,” I said. “If I killed him I’d be signing my own death warrant as well. I believe the fact that Mark is my bondmate is what will keep me from doing him any irreparable harm—it may be why the scent of his blood has never made me want to attack him outright. Not to mention the fact that I have more than a hundred eighty years of abstinence from drinking human blood.”

“You drank his.”

I nodded. “I did. Maybe because it’s a part of my vampire nature, maybe not. If you’ve ever been with a man, I’m sure you know that intense moments of passion can make a person do things he or she wouldn’t normally do. Could be that the wild emotions are what triggered the instinct, I don’t know. But I do know that I cannot and will not kill him.”

Though I had berated myself all night long because I had feared just that, I realized as I said those words that I absolutely believed them. There was simply no way I would allow myself to destroy the greatest thing that had ever happened to me, and as I accepted that as truth I was overcome by a feeling of peace and love, which I knew shown in my eyes when I looked up at the man that had made it all possible. I read his acceptance of my devotion in his own gaze and saw him return it in full measure, saw his want and his need of me, and then I watched, mesmerized, as those fathomless eyes seemed to shift.

His want and his need of me had morphed into a smoldering desire that instantly had my body singing in response.

Juliette groaned, and I heard her walking toward the barn and her apartment. I moved past Mark to unlock the back door and open it, upon which I was greeted heartily by Moe and Cissy. After delivering the appropriate amount of hugs and kisses onto the tiny dogs, I ushered them outside and into their kennel, and then went inside with Mark right behind me.

He grabbed me as soon as he had shut the kitchen door, and I returned his kiss eagerly. Mark began pulling at my blouse but I stayed his hands; though I had imagined it many times and knew that one day we would make love on the dining table, I wanted him upstairs and in our bed. I took him by the hand and led him into the living room, up the stairs and into the bedroom, then dropped his hand and turned to face him. He reached for me again but I pushed his hands away, smiling slyly as I removed first my shoes and then my socks and dropped them on the floor. Next I pulled my shirt out of the waistband of my jeans and started to pull it over my head, slowly, teasingly, and then I doffed it as well.

Mark’s eyes were full of hunger, and I saw his raw desire in them. I took my time removing the rest of my clothing, until I stood before him nude, wearing nothing but a smile. With his eyes on mine, Mark reached to remove his shoes and socks, kicking them aside when they were off. But when he went for his shirt, I stopped him again, and taking the hem in my hands I undid the buttons one by one and pushed it off his shoulders. I then reached for the clasp of his jeans and undid those, pushing the pants and his underwear down his legs. He stepped out of them quickly, and when he reached for me again, I let him pick me up and carry me to the bed.



*****



After our languorous session of lovemaking, Mark and I had gone down to the kitchen to make dinner, and during the course of it, he went to fetch Juliette so she could eat with us. When the two of them returned, she informed us that she had once again spoken to her mother, and that Monica had agreed to speak with her pack’s leaders about contacting other shifter breeds for information on the alleged immortality of dhunphyr.

When we sat down to eat, she went on with, “I wonder how Lochlan plans to find that bloodsucker from the movie theater.”

“Well, like you, he’s got his scent now,” I said. “He won’t forget what he smells like, nor what he looks like, so he’ll make inquiries with every vampire he knows to see if anyone they know matches the description. They, in turn, will ask everyone else they know, and so on. Eventually he will find him—Loch’s good at that sort of thing.”

I added that while there was still time before the animals needed to be brought in, that I would also make calls to the vampires I still communicated with, doing pretty much the same thing as my brother—putting out feelers. I had to believe that at some point, one of us would come up with something, some piece of evidence that would confirm or deny the story I had believed since childhood.

I wanted to believe that Lochlan was right, that the fact that my senses identified Mark as an immortal being meant that he was one. That it meant I would not have to contemplate the prospect of turning him into a vampire to keep him with me, or allowing him to die of old age and then following him into death because my grief was all-consuming. But because of what I had learned in the last two days about the addictive properties of dhunphyr blood and the rumors that these infants were killed in the first few hours of life, I found I could not trust an ability that I had until now taken for granted. I’d long trusted my gift to warn me of the presence of vampires and shapeshifters before I even smelled them, yet with Mark it had been the opposite: I’d smelled him before my supe-sense had been triggered. I could not help but wonder what that meant.

My phone calls yielded no immediate results, but I had not really expected they would. My associates were intrigued by my line of questioning, and I gave them the excuse that I was asking in order to locate the person or persons who had told our stories to author Vivian Drake. I’d feared it might make my vampire friends clam up, but was surprised when they all seemed eager to assist in my search—especially when I let slip the little half-truth that I’d already received word that she was planning another book, and that it would expose the massive cover-up of vampires’ addiction to dhunphyr blood.

I did not tell anyone I spoke to about Mark. These were people I saw almost as rarely as my father, and I did not see the point of telling them something they didn’t really need to know.

To my surprise, when it was time to bring in the animals, Juliette offered to help us. I gave her the relatively easy task of making sure all the water and food troughs were full, and said she could try to get the pigs inside but that she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to. Amazingly, though, she actually accomplished that as well.

Juliette also lent a hand in brushing down the horses, and by the time the sun could no longer be seen over the treetops, all the work was done for the day. We bid each other goodnight as I closed the barn doors, then she went back up to the apartment. Mark and I headed for the house, stopping to retrieve Moe and Cissy from the kennel. Then we did the most mundane and normal thing we’d done together yet—we sat on the couch and watched TV. I giggled a little as I sat against him and smiled, and when the movie we’d tuned into was over, we went upstairs to bed. Moe and Cissy eagerly climbed into their miniature of my bed, both turning in a circle as dogs often did, before settling down, sighing, and closing their eyes.

As Mark and I were undressing, he made a quip about whether or not we should even bother putting nightclothes on. Though I smiled when I looked at him, I surprised the both of us by saying, “As much as I enjoy the physical side of our relationship, I think that, for tonight, I just want to be held.”

After a moment of looking at me, he nodded. We each put on our usual nightclothes and climbed into the bed, and Mark pulled the sheet and light blanket over top of us. I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed before falling into a blissful, contented sleep.



*****



I jerked out of sleep thinking, Good grief, is it seven already? before realizing that it was not the steady buzz of the alarm that had woken me. The telephone rang for a second time, and started its third before Mark reached over and fumbled for the handset.

“Yes?” he answered sleepily, as I leaned across his chest to glance at the clock.

3 a.m. Who the heck was calling here at three in the morning?

I was considering that it was someone who didn’t know I was a night sleeper when Mark held out the phone to me. “It’s Loch,” he said, his voice a little clearer than a moment ago.

I held the handset to my ear as I laid my head back down on Mark’s chest, smiling in spite of myself at the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart. “It’s three in the morning, Loch Ness,” I said into the phone. “What the hell do you want?”

Lochlan chuckled. “Sorry to interrupt another round of hot, lusty sex, dear sister,” he began.

“You didn’t interrupt anything but my beauty sleep,” I retorted.

He laughed again. “As if you need beauty sleep, love. You were born gorgeous,” he replied.

I had to smile. “That’s right, suck up to your mistress, slave, for waking her up in the middle of the night. Speaking of, why did you?”

“I got a hit, thought you’d want to know right away,” Lochlan said, his tone all business. “One of my contacts knows someone in Ireland who might be able to give you some information.”

“Might be able to? Loch, you know we need definite,” I said.

“I know that. But this lass he told me of is apparently renowned across the British Isles and half of Europe for her psychic abilities.”

An old memory popped up to the forefront of my brain. Couldn’t be, I thought dismissively, then amended, Maybe it’s a descendant.

“Saph? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Where in Ireland is this famous psychic?” I asked.

“Currently resides in Briarhill, in County Galway,” Lochlan replied. “My contact said he was fairly certain you could get an audience with her without an appointment.”

“All well and good, brother, if I could get to Ireland quickly, which I can’t,” I said with a sigh.

“Why can’t you?” Mark wondered. “Based on what you were going to pay me, I can only guess you have the means to go.”

I sat up finally and looked at him. “The money isn’t the problem, Mark. I could pay for a couple of tickets just fine. But have you any idea how hard it will be to get even one round-trip ticket to Ireland on the spot, let alone two?”

Lochlan cleared his throat on the other end of the phone line. “Saph, you know you wouldn’t have to pay for the airfare,” he said slowly.

I felt my spine stiffen. “If you’re referring to what I think you’re referring to, you can forget it,” I said harshly. “No way in the seven levels of hell.”

Mark sat up then, putting a hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, what is it?” he queried, concern in his countenance as he looked at me.

I shook my head as Loch was saying, “Don’t be ridiculous. All you have to do is ask. He’d give you world, Saphrona—you know you have only to request it. The use of his plane is nothing.”

I growled as I ran a hand through my hair, drawing my knees up to rest my elbows on them. “Loch, even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I cannot do that. I could not ask him for a roll of toilet paper, not after all these years I’ve spent alternately ignoring him or telling him I hate him. I will not humiliate myself that way, and I will not give him or Evangeline the satisfaction of me having to ask for anything.”

Lochlan loosed what I knew to be an aggravated sigh, and for a moment I felt bad for him. He was constantly being drawn into the battles between Diarmid and I, which I was truly sorry for, but then I remembered that this time he had brought it on himself by suggesting I ask our father for anything in the first place.

“Just tell him it’s a business expense,” Lochlan said at last. “He’s the one who wants you to track down Vivian Drake’s source, right? Tell him you recruited me to help, and I found a lead that requires a trip to Ireland because the contact will only speak to us in person.”

“Then why can’t you ask him and I just meet you at the airport?”

This time Lochlan growled. “Saphrona, you are hopeless. This feud between you cannot go on forever, damn it,” he said.

“Technically it can,” I countered. After a moment of silence from his end, I sighed resignedly. “I… I appreciate the suggestion, Lochlan. It would make things go faster, but I’ll pass. We’ll just have to take the next earliest flight to Ireland, even if it’s a day or two from now. It’s fine.”

Another moment of silence passed, and then, “Don’t. I’ll ask him.”

And then he hung up.

“Shit,” I mumbled, absently handing the phone to Mark so he could hang it up. He did that, and then raised a hand to rub my back soothingly.

“What is it, Saphrona?”

I crossed my arms over my knees and laid my forehead on them. “One of Lochlan’s contacts knows of a psychic in Ireland who may be able to give us some answers. Getting a commercial flight on this short a notice might take some time—days, even. He…he actually suggested I ask Diarmid for the use of his plane.”

“Your father has his own plane?” Mark queried, and I nodded. “Well, I do see the practicality in asking him, but honey, I’m on your side with this. If you don’t feel comfortable asking him, don’t do it. If we have to wait a couple of days to get there, then we wait a couple of days. It will make it easier for you to arrange for someone to come and take care of the animals while we’re gone.”

I turned my head so I could look at him. “Lochlan said he would ask,” I mumbled, and as if on cue, the phone rang again.

Mark reached over and picked it up. After the customary “Hello” he nodded a few times, said “Uh huh” a few, and then hung up.

“Lochlan said the plane will be ready for us within the hour, and he’ll meet us at the airport,” he told me.

That was fast, I thought as I sat up straighter. “He actually did it? Got Diarmid to lend us the use of his precious Gulfstream?” I wondered incredulously.

“Apparently,” Mark said with a shrug, reaching over to switch on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. “I’m gonna let Juliette know as soon as I’m dressed. More than likely she’ll want to come with us.”

At the mention of his sister, I smiled for the first time. “No doubt,” I agreed, turning in the bed so that I was facing the side he had slept on. “As protective of you as she is, I would fear her squirrely wrath upon our return were we to take off without at least telling her of our intentions.”

“Squirrely wrath?” Mark queried with a laugh, as he rummaged through one of his boxes for clean clothes.

I chuckled. “When we get back I’ll introduce you to my pal Foamy the Squirrel,” I said, reaching for the phone.

After apologizing profusely for waking him when I called, I reported to my nearest neighbor, Harry Mitchell, that I had to leave town for a family emergency, and could he have his boys come take care of the animals for me, as they had done before? It was an arrangement he and I had made some time ago, since we were on friendly terms and I worked my farm alone. He was especially grateful to me that the pig I’d sold him two years ago had won first place at the county fair, and second at the state fair livestock show.

Thanking Harry and hanging up, I rose and gathered my own clothes, laying them out on the bed before heading for the bathroom to shower. Mark, noticing what I was doing, followed me, and of course we were unable to resist a repeat of yesterday’s bathing exercises. When we exited the shower half an hour later, both of us clean and refreshed and limbered from the sex, he was slightly woozy from the loss of blood he had allowed me to drink, and I felt fantastically energized.

“We should get going,” Mark said when we got downstairs and I began to gather things to make breakfast.

I shook my head. “Mark, the fact that you are okay with me taking a drink from you at all still amazes me, as does my ability to control myself to keep from taking too much. Because you do that, because you take care of me that way and trust me that much, I’m going to take care of you this way. You’ll replace the blood faster if you eat something.”

“I feel fine,” he said stubbornly. “Loch said—”

“That plane isn’t going to go anywhere without us,” I said. “I’m fairly certain my brother will understand the need for sustenance on your part.”

“Fine. I’ll go and get Juliette,” he said, then walked out the back door.

I sighed, then went downstairs to the basement, where my deep freezer was. Although what I had drank from Mark would keep me up and buzzing for hours yet, I nevertheless wanted to keep myself in the habit of drinking animal blood—it wouldn’t be right for me to depend solely on Mark for that portion of my diet. When I was back upstairs with a bottle of frozen cow’s blood in my hand, he and Juliette had come in. She informed me as I put the bottle in the refrigerator that after Mark had told her where we were going, she’d taken it upon herself to call for some backup.

“Backup?” I queried with one eyebrow raised.

Juliette nodded. “Yup. One of my packmates will be meeting us at the airport to act as extra security for Mark.”

Mark groaned and I looked over at him. “Jules, I hardly think that’s necessary. It’s just going to be the three of us and Lochlan,” he told her.

“Going to see some psychic who is the consort of vampires,” she said pointedly.

“You don’t know that.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Mark, who was it that told you about this person? A vampire. Who told him? Another vampire. Which leads me to conclude that our contact in Ireland is the same or yet another vampire.”

“Didn’t we already agree that the vampire community finding out about me was inevitable? Hell, that guy at the theater’s probably already told all his friends that he ran into a delectable morsel he nearly had a taste of.”

“And now wants to kill,” she added. “Until such time as we can be sure they all understand you are off limits, I’m not taking any chances.”

“Far be it for me to act paranoid, hon,” I said as we finished preparing another meal of bacon, eggs and toast and sat at the table to eat it, “Juliette has a point. There’s also the chance that my father’s flight team are vampires. It really is best to be cautious, especially when it comes to anyone associated with Diarmid Mackenna.”



*****



At twenty past five in the morning, I pulled my Ford Explorer SportTrac to a stop next to the private hanger owned by the Mackenna Corporation, where Diarmid’s biggest extravagance, a Gulfstream G650, was already waiting for us outside, fueled and ready to go. Lochlan came out of the open cabin and hurried down the steps as a hefty-looking fellow I instantly knew to be a shapeshifter emerged from the Jeep I had parked next to, and as Mark, Juliette, and I got out of my truck, they both approached, eyeing each other warily.

Juliette quickly introduced us to Jake Anderson, whose animal form, he informed us with a smile, was the Alaskan Malamute. I introduced Lochlan to Jake and started for the plane.

Lochlan grabbed my arm. “Sis, I came out here to warn you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Let me guess, the crew are all vampires?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Actually, no, not for a trans-Atlantic flight, but… Saph, I swear I tried to talk him out of it.”

As he spoke, a figure appeared in the open hatchway of the plane, and I felt my spine stiffen for the second time that morning.