The Comanche Vampire (19 page)

He
tickled the bare foot dangled out from beneath the covers and she reacted with
a shriek.
 
Anne kicked with force until
Ned laughed then she blinked up at him. In a drowsy voice, she asked, “What’re
you doing here so early?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I came to kidnap you.”

Confusion
wrinkled her forehead. “What?”

“It’s
snowing and it’s going to be a major storm.
 
I want to take you home with me.
 
I’ve got the fireplace so we’ll stay warm and thanks to you, I’ve got
plenty of food. I don’t want you snowed in alone, especially if the power goes
out.”

Anne
scooted until she had her back propped against the pillows. “Do you think it
will?”

“I
think it’s likely.
 
Get your stuff,
whatever you need for a few days and let’s go.”

Her
hand cupped his cheek, warm against his ever-cold skin. “I teach three classes
today, Ned.
 
I’ll go afterward, I
promise.”

“If
you wait much longer, you won’t even be able to drive to the college.
 
It’s really coming down and I wouldn’t doubt
they’ll call off school.
 
Don’t they do
that, if it’s bad weather?” Ned knew in theory they did.
 
He’d listened as many single mothers griped
about their lack of childcare when the schools closed for snow.

“Well,
yeah, sure … but is it really snowing so much?”

“Yes.
 
I’ll go make coffee. Get dressed and ready.”

“Ned?”

He
was halfway through the bedroom door but turned. “What?”

She
beamed at him. “You’re the most romantic man, Ned.
 
All right, I’ll call the dean and tell her
I’m not coming and then you can kidnap me.
 
Is it cold?”

“That’s
a silly question, honey.
 
Yeah, it is.”

If
he stayed another moment, he’d want her and they lacked time.
 
Soon as
we’re home, then we can spend the rest of the day doing it.
 
Satisfied he’d be sated soon, Ned headed to
the kitchen.
 
He watched the snow
continue to fall as he waited for it to brew and by the time Anne joined him, a
blanket of white covered the parking area, all the vehicles, and the road.
 
She sidled up behind him and saw it. “Wow,”
she said. “You didn’t exaggerate. Do you think we can still get to your place?”

“Oh,
yeah,” he said. “The truck’s four wheel drive and it’ll go almost anywhere.
 
It tracks better when it’s slick than Dog
ever did.”

Anne
shot him a wide-eyed stare. “What?”

Aware
he’d fumbled, Ned spread his hands wide.
 
He wasn’t really sorry but frustrated. Keeping his past separate from
his present became daily more difficult.
 
“I just meant riding a horse in this kind of weather could be risky,
too.
 
They do well in snow but if there’s
any ice, their hooves tend to slide.
 
It’s dangerous for the horse and rider.”

“Oh,
I guess it would be.” She accepted the coffee he handed her. “I didn’t know
you’d named one of your horses ‘Dog’ like your ancestor.”

He
hadn’t of course, but kept silent. Ned sipped his coffee. “Well, we won’t be
doing any riding today, that’s for sure.”

She
shivered. “I wouldn’t think so.
 
Did you
want some breakfast before we go?”

Food
didn’t rank as a high priority so Ned shrugged. He’d had the blood he needed
and lacked appetite as well as interest. “If you want to eat, we can.”

“Aren’t
you hungry?”

Ned
shook his head. “No, I had something before I left work … but go ahead, if you
are.”

“All
right, I will.” She sorted through the cupboard and pulled out a box of toaster
pastries.
 
Anne had talked him into
trying them once.
 
He hadn’t cared for
the hard, dry squares with a minute amount of filling. “Do you want one?”

“No,
thanks.”

She
nuked her tarts in the microwave and headed for the living room.
 
Ned followed and plopped down in his usual
spot when Anne flipped the wall switch.
 
He expected the soft glow of the lamp but instead a hundred bright
colorful points of light burst into his vision.
 
A two-foot tall Christmas tree sat in place of the lamp on the end
table.
 
The sparkling lights revealed
silver snowflakes, stars, and cylinders.
 
A gold garland wrapped around the small tree.
 
Until then, he’d failed to notice the other
decorations, silk poinsettias, cards hung along the bedroom doorway, and a
wreath in the window.
 
Anne curled up
into her favorite chair and tucked her feet beneath her.
 
She nibbled at her pastries and smiled. “I
decorated for Christmas. How do you like it?”

Ned
didn’t, not really.
 
Christmas and the
holidays were foreign to him.
 
He’d watch
it grow from a short celebration among Christians to a huge, crazy season with
old men in red suits, talking snowmen and wild-eyed reindeer.
 
He shied away from anything connected with it
out of general principal but the glow in Anne’s eyes indicated she liked it as
much as he didn’t. “It’s pretty,” he said.
 
And, for the first time, he could see where the miniature lights on a
cold winter’s day or night might have appeal.
 
They banished back shadows and delivered cheer.

Her
face lit with a child’s delight. “I love Christmas,” she said. “And even though
I don’t much like the weather, it’s not so bad when it’s getting close to
Christmas. It fits the season.
 
I just
hope it’s over and melted when I go home.
 
Have you decided if you’re coming with me?”

All
he’d wanted was to take his woman home, hunker down and stay warm but somehow
Christmas and Anne’s trip back to visit were stumbling blocks in his path.
 
Ned almost wished he’d gone home alone but he
craved her company.
 
Love was proving to
be far more complicated than he’d ever imagined.
 
But, it was worth it so with a sigh Ned said,
“I’m going to try, Anne.”

Tension
coiled in his belly like a nest of rattlesnakes at the possibility.
 
The idea of spending several days in the
company of humans scared him more than any raid he’d ever made, battle he’d
fought or enemy encountered.
 
But damn it,
she wanted him to and he longed to please her.
 
Anne smiled with such radiance he could almost feel the warmth. “Ned, do
you mean it?”

He
nodded and in a gruff voice said, “Yeah, I’ll try.
 
But if I can’t get off work or the weather’s
bad like this, I can’t promise.”

She
polished off the rest of the tart and licked her fingers. “Thank you,” she
said. “I need to say I’m not coming in. Then let me get some boots on and we
can go.”

Ned
waited while she donned her western boots, something she’d apparently worn for
years.
 
Until Anne, his idea of a college
professor included horn-rimmed glasses, high intelligence, and an air of
superiority.
 
Anne possessed the brains
but nothing else he’d imagined fit.
  
She
pulled the boots over her tight jeans and buttoned a heavy coat over the long
sweater she wore.
 
Then she added a
woolen cap over her hair and picked up her oversized bag.

“I’m
ready,” she announced.
 
“Can we turn on
the TV first? It does look like there’s a lot coming down and maybe they’ve
already cancelled classes.”

His
patience would soon be thinner than his remaining blood but he nodded. “Go
ahead.” Dozens of closings and cancellations scrolled along the bottom of the
screen and Anne’s college was listed. “I don’t need to call now,” she told him.

“Then
let’s get going.”

“Where’s
your coat?”

Ned
laughed. “I’m wearing it.” His well-worn denim jacket served as his sole outer
garment. Cold blooded by nature he seldom bundled up in anything, totally aware
it’d do no good.
 
If he could, he’d wrap
up in a buffalo hide or bearskin.
 
In
bitter temperatures, he missed his horned headdress.
 
It’d been both impressive and warm.

“Don’t
you have anything heavier?”

He
shook his head. “I’m good.
 
But we need
to go before the snow’s even deeper.”

When
they emerged they found a white, frozen world.
 
The snow that had just begun to cover everything when Ned arrived had
increased to several inches deep.
  
He
tucked Anne’s bag behind the seat and started the truck.
 
Then he stepped back into the sharp breeze to
clear the windshield while the engine warmed.
 
By the time he climbed into the cab, shivers wracked his body and Anne
grabbed his hand. “Ned, you’re freezing!”

“I’m
a little cold but I’m fine.” And he would be, although he didn’t dare admit how
much more chilled than usual he’d become.
 

“Your
hand’s like ice, Ned. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Impossible
unless he couldn’t get blood but she wasn’t aware. “I won’t, honey.”

Anne
sneezed. “I hope not.
 
I think I’m coming
down with a cold.”

Ned
figured after almost a century and a half, he’d have forgotten how miserable
one could be with a runny nose, cough, and the urge to sneeze, but when she
mentioned it, he realized he hadn’t. “Maybe you won’t,” he said with hope.
 
As if to prove him wrong, a coughing spasm
struck her and she hacked.
 
“Maybe not,”
Anne said but Ned thought they both suspected she already had.

Little
traffic marred the snow packed streets as Ned navigated through Lawton and away
from town.
 
Beneath the truck wheels, the
pavement became increasingly treacherous the farther they traveled.
 
Ned maintained a steady speed, not too slow
but not fast as the truck tracked, steady as a tortoise on the move.
 
The trip out to his place took more than
twice as long but they made it.
 
Powerful
gusts buffeted the vehicle and when he parked beside the house, the visibility
had dropped to almost nothing.
 
He helped
Anne out of the truck and carried her case to the front door.

“It’s
unlocked,” he shouted over the rising wind. “Go on in.
 
I need to make sure the ponies can get to the
barn and feed them.
 
I’ll be right in,
okay?”

Anne
shivered as she nodded. “Sure.”

“Get
warmed up,” Ned told her. “I’ll start a fire when I come inside.”

His
horses huddled in the small lean-to that served as a barn so he tossed them
some hay and hurried inside.
 
He brought
in an armload of wood and while Anne puttered in the kitchen, Ned got a fire
going in the hearth.
 
Heat soon spread
through the small house although outside, snow continued to come down fast and
furious.
 
Wind gusted hard enough to
rattle the windows and despite the warmth Ned felt more than one draft.
 
“I think we’re going to get snowed in,” Anne
said as she brought him a cup of coffee. “I’m glad you picked me up. I’d be
stranded alone in town.”

For
the first time in
awhile
, he smiled. “Thanks for
coming with me.
 
I’d get a little stir
crazy and lonely out here by myself.”
 
He
settled down on the couch and gestured for Anne to join him.
  
She sat beside him and they both gazed
through the window.
 
Her warm hand crept
into his and Ned savored her body heat. “You’re cold,” she said, her tone
accusing.

“Maybe
a little,” he said.
 
Anne leaned against
him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
 
“Are you?”

She
coughed with a harsh bark. “I’m freezing.
 
I still think I’m coming down with a cold.”

Tenderness
welled up in his heart for Anne.
 
Ned
pulled the old Mexican serape blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it
around her.
 
“Come here,” he said and
pulled her close. “Let me help you get warmed up.
 
You want to watch some television or listen
to music?”

“Music
would be nice,” Anne said. “Do you have some of that pow-wow stuff?”

Ned
chuckled. “If you mean various Native American songs and chants, yeah, I’ve got
lots.
 
It’s not all Comanche though.”

“That’s
fine.”

He
put some CD’s in to play, refilled his coffee mug and repositioned himself with
Anne.
 
She snuggled against him and
despite the winds buffeting the house Ned found himself as contented as he’d
been in a long time.
 
He’d lain in his
lodge long ago on winter days as nasty as this, happy and lazy.
 
Then, as now, there’d been a fire for heat, a
woman to love, and the space of time to do nothing but exist.
 
They listened to the music and after a few
hours, Anne stirred from a near somnolent state. “I should make us some
lunch.
 
I meant to make chili or
something, but I got too comfortable to stir.”