The Comanche Vampire (17 page)

“I’m
neither one, honey.”

Anne
blubbered against his shoulder, her face pressed to his skin.
 
She mumbled something he couldn’t make out as
he stroked her back. He whispered to her in English and after a long time, she
calmed.
 
Anne rested against him, quiet
until she said, “Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“I
don’t think you’re crazy.”

“I’m
not.”

“But
I don’t think you’re a vampire, either.”

Ned
said nothing.
 
Anne lifted her tear-swollen
eyes to his. “I don’t because it’s not possible.
 
I don’t know why you said you were or why you
took the blood and I’d rather not. But, I know you’re not a vampire.
 
I’ve seen you in the daytime and you don’t sleep
in a coffin.
 
And you eat and you’re not
creepy.”

Her
voice picked up speed as she babbled.
 
Ned listened but didn’t try to admit or deny.
 
Anne slowed down. “I love you and I’ve been
so happy.
 
I don’t want it to be ruined,
what we have.”

“Honey,
it doesn’t have to be…”

She
put her fingers over his mouth. “Hush.
 
So I don’t want you to say it any more. Don’t say you’re a vampire.
 
We won’t talk about the blood ever
again.
 
Promise me, okay? And then we can
go back where we were.”

In
all his imagining, he’d never seen this outcome. He’d told the truth and Anne
chose to ignore it. Ned released a slow sigh. Maybe in time she’d see what he
was and learn to deal with it.
 

“All
right, Anne.
 
I don’t want to fight.
 
U
kamkuto
nu.”

“So
we rewind, right?”

“Yeah,
if that’s what you want.”

“It
is, Ned, it is.”

“So,
how about I get dressed?”

Anne
smiled, a little. “I guess that’s a good idea.
 
Do you want to stay?”

The
simple question carried significance.
 
Although Anne often spend the night or weekend at his place, Ned hadn’t
slept at her place.
 
Her offer now seemed
half olive branch, part demonstration of love.
 
He’d take it, either way. “Sure, honey.”

She
blew air between her lips. “Good. It was getting slick when I came home.
 
I’d worry if you had to drive all the way to
your place.
 
I know it’s not evening yet,
but I think I’ll take a long, hot bath and then make dinner.”

“Take
your time,” Ned told her. “I’ll make a pot of coffee while I’m waiting.”

“Thanks.”
Anne climbed out of his lap and vanished into the bedroom.
 
Ned sat until he heard the bathroom door shut
then retrieved his clothes from the dryer and made coffee.
 
He leaned on the kitchen counter and gazed
out at the falling sleet.
 
Anne’s
unexpected questions had rattled him more than he liked to admit and the fact
she’d rejected the truth concerned him.
 
Sooner or later, something else would happen and she wouldn’t be able to
deny the reality.
 
Based on her reaction
now, Ned wondered how great the emotional cost would be when she understood he
wasn’t delusional or in denial.
 
He’d
never felt closer to her or more worried.
 

“Ned?”

At
her soft query, he turned to find Anne silhouetted in the doorway, lovely in a
dark green pair of flannel pajamas.
 
Her
hair made a wild cloud about her head and shoulders then trailed down her back
in curls.
 
Ned inhaled the soft lavender
fragrance wafting from her body and sighed with pleasure.
 
Anne’s red eyes were puffy as if she’d cried
hard in the tub. Her vulnerable expression squeezed his heart in a vise-like
grip.
 
At the moment she seemed as
fragile as fine porcelain.

“Yeah,
honey?”

“When
I didn’t find you, I thought maybe you’d gone.”

“No,
I’m still here. Want some coffee?” His thought preoccupied him far longer than
he’d thought.
 
What seemed like a couple
of minutes had been longer – it had to be when she’d had time to bathe and the
coffee was ready.

“Please.”

“Sure.
You want to drink it at the table or the other room?”

“Living
room’s fine.” Anne took the cup from his hands.
 
Ned poured his own and joined her.
 
He settled into an armchair across from the swivel rocker where she sat.
 
She sipped coffee, silent.
 
He watched her, noting how pale she’d
become.
 
Tight lines around her mouth
made him think she must hurt somewhere, physical pain… not emotional.
 
After several minutes passed, he said,
“You’re awful quiet.”

 
She bowed her head as if in prayer. “I don’t
feel very well.”

Guilt
twisted a barbed wire knot in his gut.
Probably
my fault.
“What’s the matter?”

Anne
winced and shifted position. “My flow started and I’ve got cramps.”

For
a moment he drew a total blank then made the leap with more than a little
dismay.
 
He hadn’t been close enough to
one woman to be aware of her monthly cycle and Ned tended to shy away from such
things.
 
His wife always absented herself
at such times and he knew little about the mechanics of it.
 
He knew what it was and how it worked but
little else.
 
His enhanced sense of smell
caught a faint whiff, but unlike fresh lifeblood, it lacked appeal.
 
Makes
sense, though. It’s more like waste, not viable.
 
All Ned knew was there wouldn’t be any
sex for a few days and he felt genuine empathy for Anne’s pain.
 
“I’m sorry, honey,” he told her. “Do you want
me to go?”

“No,
I don’t.
 
I’d rather you stay, but just
don’t touch me.
 
I don’t think I could
stand it right now.
 
I feel like I might
break into pieces if you do.”

Over
the months, he’d experienced Anne’s many moods but this one wasn’t
familiar.
 
She must’ve had monthlies
before, but she hadn’t fussed or seemed so delicate. Maybe the emotional upset
intensified the experience or so Ned thought and offered what comfort he could.
 
“Okay.
 
Can I do anything? Or get you something?”

Her
wild hair bounced as she nodded. “Thanks. I already took some ibuprofen. I know
I promised to make something to eat, but I don’t feel much like cooking now.”

“So
you want me to go pick up something? I’d be happy to,” Ned said. He loved Anne
but her apartment always inspired a claustrophobic reaction. After the volatile
scene earlier, he could use an infusion of clear, cold air and a few minutes
under the open sky.

Anne
shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to go.
 
There’s soup in the cabinet and some stuff in the freezer.
 
I think there’s boxed lasagna we could share
and some grilled chicken breasts, unless you want soup.”

Ned
didn’t want soup or any of the other things she offered.
 
His culinary skills were better suited toward
cooking fresh game over a campfire, but he’d do it for Anne.
 
“Tell me what you want and I’ll get it
heated,” he said. “I’m good with whatever you’d like.”

She
chose soup and Ned managed to warm it.
 
Anne came to the table so he served her a bowl with saltines on the
side.
 
Anne sat stared at the empty space
in front of him. “Aren’t you eating any?”

He’d
just learned to eat chicken and he didn’t do soup. And he didn’t even need to
eat unless he craved something. “
Naw
, I’m good.
 
I’m not hungry, honey.”

“If
you wanted something else, you should’ve said so.” Damn, he’d swear her eyes
brimmed with tears.
 
“Anne, I would’ve if
I did.”

Anne
blinked and one tear rolled in slow motion down her cheek. “If you want to go
get a hamburger or something, go ahead.”

She’d
never seemed so vulnerable. “I don’t, honey.
 
Is something else wrong? You’re awful upset.”

“I
know,” she wailed and put down her spoon. “It’s just everything, the weather,
and all the crazy stuff you said…”

“I
thought we were going to forget all that.”

“I’m
trying.
 
It’s got me all worked up, Ned.”

Dealing
with an emotionally wrought woman wasn’t part of his expertise.
 
His long-ago wife, the sole other woman he’d
been this close to, had been stoic and strong.
 
Ned could count on one hand the times he’d comforted her.
 
He’d soothed his children more often than he
had Aiyana so he drew on those memories.
 
In a gentle tone, he said, “Go ahead and eat. I bet you’ll feel better
if you do.”

After
a moment, she began to eat the soup and he watched, concerned and confused.
 
Ned wanted to ease her anguish. Something he’d
never ached to do this much for anyone.
 
I really love her, but what future can we have
if she goes crazy and cries when I tell her the truth? I don’t know but I’ll
hang around to see.

Ned
offered his presence as he sat with her at the table but he gave Anne the space
she seemed to need, too.
 
He said little
because she appeared to be in a reflective mood.
 
When she wanted to talk, he’d listen and if
she wanted him to speak, he would.
 
Unlike most modern people he observed he possessed the ability to be
still.
 
It served him well through the
meal. Afterward Anne regained a little color in her cheeks and her face wasn’t
as drawn. “Thanks, Ned,” she said. “The soup was just what I needed.”

“I’m
glad. You want to watch a movie or some TV?”

Anne
shook her head. “I don’t think so.
 
I’d
like to curl up in bed, I think.”

He
could take a hint and he wasn’t offended. “Then I’ll take off and head home, I
guess.”

She
stretched out her hand to him. “No, I’d like you to stay.
 
I don’t, well, we can’t make love, but would
you hold me for a while?”

Her
eyes met his, open and trusting. Blindsided by her mercurial mood swings, Ned
sighed.
 
Earlier, she’d said not to touch
her but something had changed so he took Anne’s hand. “Sure, honey.”

“Then
let’s go to my bed.”

He
almost groaned.
 
For a man who’d lived
almost celibate for decades, Ned enjoyed their active sex life.
 
To lie with Anne and be unable to succumb to
desire challenged his self-control.
 
He
wanted to stroke her, lick her, kiss and touch her.
 
His cock throbbed with want at the idea and
he’d have to deny release or upset her.
The
woman doesn’t know what she’s asking of me and until now I never knew how much
restraint I could have.
 
As a
warrior, he’d known discipline.
 
He could
do this, but he wouldn’t like it. “All right, Anne.”

Her
bed teemed with pillows and a lace-trimmed comforter, which she turned down.
Unlike his mattress, hers yielded to their bodies with soft decadence.
 
The bedroom smelled of sweet potpourri and
perfume.
 
Worst of all for Ned, the
bedroom lacked windows.
 
He preferred to
be able to look out, if not escape.
 
For
Anne’s sake, he accepted the situation and removed his boots.
 
Anne curled up on one side of the bed so he
lay down behind her.
 
She wiggled tight
until her back rested against him.
 
Ned put
one arm around her.
 
Her taut muscles
eased as she relaxed.
 
“Can you pull the
covers up?” she asked, so he did.
 
“Thanks, that’s nice and cozy.
 
Are you comfortable?”

Ned
was anything but.
 
Her proximity and warm
body pressed against Ned stirred up every wanton desire possible.
 
The soft lavender scent mingled with her
natural body musk to rouse his senses.
 
At this range, he heard the quiet swoosh of her blood through her
arteries and veins.
 
Her breath reminded
him of wind rushing through the tall prairie grasses and her heartbeat thumped
the rhythm of the drum.
 
Temptation reared
within, hard to deny, but Ned resisted.
 
And he lied. “Yes. Are you?”