Wild Ones (10 page)

I had thought
about trying to run from Atticus as soon as we left the house, but
I had a pretty good idea of how strong and fast he was. No chance
of that being successful, then. I also wondered about telling my
parents the truth, and seeking their assistance, but I knew I would
be endangering them, and for me that just wasn't an option. So I
smiled and played along.

My father
looked shell shocked and confused. My mother, on the other hand,
had decided straight away that she really liked Atticus, and had
fussed around him offering tea and coffee and biscuits. I swear she
would have offered him her blood if she had known what he was.

Atticus
courteously refused everything on offer, and spent most of the two
hours charming my mother so much it was almost embarrassing to
watch. I sat next to Dad and patted his knee reassuringly.

"I didn't see
this coming," he whispered to me eventually.

"Never mind,
Dad. Astrology's not an exact science." It's not even a science, I
thought to myself, but as we'd been over this ground before, I kept
quiet.

"I'm usually so
good with your predictions though, Millie," he said forlornly. What
predictions, I thought to myself. Until now, my life had been
blissfully uneventful. I patted his knee again. There was really
nothing I could have told him that would have made him feel better,
and quite a lot I could have said to make him feel a lot worse. So
I left it at that.

"Have you heard
from Maddie, Dad?" I asked him as I lay my head on his shoulder and
yawned.

"She phoned us
shortly after you left for your holiday, and told us she was going
out of town for a few days. She was back yesterday, I believe. Your
mother spoke to her."

"Please tell
her I'm OK," I yawned again.

"Sure. Why
wouldn't you be?" he sounded puzzled. I was simply too tired to
explain, so I closed my eyes and drifted off.

I fell asleep
on that couch with my head on my father's shoulder. I was only half
aware of murmuring, and then being carried out to the car and
driven home. I woke up in bed a few hours later, naked this time.
Serves me right, I thought glumly, wondering what new liberties had
been taken with my body as I slept.

I found my
clothes lying scattered around the room, and pulled them on. The
bedroom door opened revealing a smug looking Atticus.

"I thought I
heard you moving around," he told me. Then he grinned evilly. "You
really do sleep very soundly."

I
wondered if punching a vampire would actually hurt. Absolutely, I
thought darkly. It would hurt
me
.

"I'm hungry," I
told him.

"I'm not," his
grin widened.

Jesus, he was
seriously asking for it. I launched myself in his direction,
meaning to tumble him to the floor and assault him in any way I
could, but he just stood there grinning and caught me in mid air.
He didn't even flinch or step back. He held me with one hand under
my butt, and another around my shoulders, pressing me against his
body so my arms were trapped between us. I struggled briefly, but
gave up as soon as I realised how unyielding those arms were. I
looked up at his face, ready to scold him, but stopped when I saw
his expression. He was gazing intently at me with a gentle smile
curling his lips and something in his eyes that I didn't recognise.
Then he bent his neck and kissed me on the mouth, his lips soft and
tender. And God help me, I kissed him back.

"Ah Millie," he
whispered into my neck eventually. I rested my forehead on his
shoulder, suddenly afraid of the emotions that swamped me. We
stayed like that for a few long minutes until my constantly
voracious stomach growled. Atticus chuckled.

"Let's get you
something to eat," he said, putting me down gently. "Steph has been
waiting for you to wake up for the past hour."

I said nothing,
just smiled up at him, while my mind swirled with speculation and
fear and anger and a kind of reluctant joy. He took my hand and led
me to the kitchen, where Steph lurked like a coiled spring. Atticus
kissed the top of my head as I sat down at the table, and excused
himself to go and speak to his father. Annie said nothing, but
smiled enigmatically and put a plate of stir fry in front of me. I
ate it all and, entirely predictably, asked for seconds. Steph sat
next to me and twitched her leg impatiently as I ate, jumping up
with relief when I finally finished eating.

"Let's go," I
grinned at her.

"I'll get
Atticus. He said he'd drop us off and fetch us. Usually I drive
myself, but I don't think he trusts me with driving you around
safely. I don't know why, it's not as if I
meant
to roll the car the last time," she said
blithely as she almost skipped down the passage. I giggled softly
as I walked behind her. She really was something else.

Atticus
was outside, leaning against a sleek looking car, and looking just
like an advertisement for some fabulously expensive watch.
Nice
, I thought, taking in the way
his shirt lay against his muscular abdomen. He looked at me
speculatively from under his lashes and winked. I felt a tightening
in my belly and a rush of wetness between my legs. Damn! I thought
as I saw his slow grin. He
knows
.

"You smell
delicious," he murmured huskily in my ear as he opened the front
passenger door for me, confirming my suspicions. Vampires and their
phenomenal sense of smell. How annoying.

Atticus dropped
us off at a large modern-looking shopping centre, all glass and
steel and shiny marble floors. It looked very expensive, and it
suddenly occurred to me that I had no way of actually buying
anything. I mentioned this to Steph apologetically, feeling like a
complete idiot for dragging her out here for no good reason at all.
She giggled and handed me a shiny black credit card.

"I'm such an
idiot! Atticus gave me that to give to you, and I forgot
completely. There's no limit," she added conspiratorially. "The
family is extremely wealthy. Long term investments, see."

I held the card
between my fingers as if it were a squashed bug I'd found in my
tea. "I can't use this," I told her bluntly.

"Why not? It's
in your name." She looked puzzled.

I looked at the
name printed in gold letters along the bottom of the card. Milla
Blake, I read.

"That's not my
name," I said, holding out the card to her.

"Yes it is.
That's Atticus' surname, and since you married Atticus, it's yours
too." Yeah, self evident, right? I looked at the card, and wondered
if it would be appropriate for me to have a minor tantrum right
here and now. Probably not. Steph would look hurt, and I would look
like a complete idiot. Instead I smiled at her, and tucked the card
in my back pocket. I decided that I would use it to make a few
small purchases, and that would be it. I knew exactly what I
wanted.

Steph had other
plans. I tried desperately to dissuade her, but she was remarkably
stubborn. So I let her drag me through various hideously expensive
boutiques and stood patiently while she held clothes up against me,
and even relented and tried a few on. I have never been a very keen
shopper, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and I started to enjoy
myself. Eventually she decided it was time to have a break, so we
found a small restaurant, and I started paging through the menu. It
was fairly late in the afternoon, so the place was empty apart from
a grumpy looking waitress who kept disappearing through a door
behind the counter. Stephanie excused herself to go to the
bathroom, while I tried to decide which of the items on the menu
would have the biggest portions. I sensed a presence at the table
and looked up, expecting to see the waitress. Instead, a very tall
man stood towering over me, his otherwise good-looking face marred
by an unpleasant sneer. He slid into the seat opposite me with one
fluid movement, and reached out and gripped my right wrist
painfully. Another tall man walked into the restaurant, and stood
behind him, looking down at me expressionlessly.

"Let me go," I
told him nervously. The hand that held me was stronger than it
should have been, and I was starting to worry.

"Don't you
smell lovely," he said in a low and menacing voice. He closed his
eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. "Yummy!"

"Don't touch
her," a voice said from behind me. I recognised Steph, and sighed
with relief. This guy was super creepy.

"Listen, little
bitch, not only am I going to touch her, I'm going to lick her and
suck her. I may even bite her a little." He licked his teeth
suggestively, and I saw the tips of his fangs protruding below his
upper lip. "And then I am going to fuck her 'till she bleeds. And
if she's still alive after that, I'll let my brothers have a go."
He turned his attention back to me, and leered. "I have a really
big dick."

"You
are
a really big
dick," I told him coldly, furious and terrified at the same time.
The grip on my arm tightened painfully.

"Not here,
Marcus. We can take her another time," the man behind him said
flatly.

"Show him your
wrist, Millie," said Steph urgently. I let the menu fall on the
table and held out my left arm, wrist upwards. The bracelet slid
down my arm slightly, revealing the tattoo. The expressionless man
paled when he saw it, and lifted his hands, palms out.

"We
apologise, my Lady," he said. "We did not know. Marcus! Let her
go
now
," he said
urgently.

Marcus tore his
gaze away from my face and glanced at my wrist. He dropped my other
hand as if it were a venomous snake and jumped backwards, knocking
the chair over.

"Fuck!" he
swore loudly, finally attracting the attention of the waitress, who
appeared as if by magic behind the counter. She watched open
mouthed as the two of them beat a hasty retreat, knocking over
another two chairs in their rush to get out of there. I held up a
hand to summon the waitress, while Steph righted the chair that the
creepy guy had occupied. The waitress came and stood by the
table.

"What
happened?" she asked.

"They made a
mistake," I told her shortly. "I would like the porterhouse steak
with vegetables please, no chips or onion rings. And some tea.
Steph?"

Steph was still
standing by the chair, gazing at me in shock. She shook herself, as
if trying to wake from a weird dream, and said," Chips and a Coke,
please." The waitress nodded and left, and Steph sank into her
chair slowly, still staring at me.

"Aren't you
going to freak out, or cry, or something?"

"What's the
point? They've gone. We're fine. And Marcus is going to die.
There's really no downside." I was enraged, but I was damned if I
was going to show it here. I knew somehow that these were the same
ones that had taken Jen, and I was almost pleased that Marcus had
touched me, knowing as I did that he would now be executed.
Surprisingly, my biggest worry at the moment was how Atticus would
react. I didn't want him to go tearing off after these guys and get
himself hurt. That was a serious shocker. I wondered briefly if I'd
suddenly lost my mind.

"Do you have a
mobile phone?" I asked Steph.

"Yes," she
said.

"Give it to
me," I said, and she handed it over obediently.

"Do you have
your grandfather's number on here?"

"Yes," she said
again, staring at me as if I'd sprouted horns or something.

"Good." I
started scrolling through the numbers on her phone, until I found
one that said Granddad, and I pressed connect. I held it up to my
ear and waited. Titus answered after four rings.

"Hello?" his
deep voice carried clearly over the phone.

"Titus, it's
Millie."

"What a lovely
surprise. What can I do for you?" Can't beat old style courtesy, I
thought wryly.

"Steph and I
were accosted by two vampires. One of them is called Marcus. He
touched me."

There was a
pause. "Are you hurt?"

"No, we are
both fine. He just grabbed me around the wrist. They both left when
they saw the tattoo. I don't want Atticus to overreact and go after
them. So I thought I'd tell you and you could somehow prevent that
from happening."

"You're worried
about him." It was a statement, not a question.

I couldn't
refute that, so I said nothing. I also knew that Titus would tell
his son about this conversation and Atticus would know that I
cared. I sighed. I was getting in way too deep now, and I needed to
get out fast. I needed space and time. I needed perspective.

"Thank you for
calling me, Millie. You did the right thing. I will contact the
authorities now. Do you want me to send someone to fetch you?"

"Not yet. My
steak will be here any minute, and I still have something I need to
get. Forty-five minutes?"

He chuckled.
"Fine. Don't worry about my boy. I will make sure he stays out of
this."

"Thank you," I
breathed, relieved. I pressed disconnect and handed the phone back
to Steph, who had stopped gazing at me in horror, and was now
grinning gleefully.

"Don't say it,"
I told her.

"Say what?" she
asked innocently.

Fortunately my
steak arrived just then and I tucked in while Steph picked at her
chips and sipped her Coke, still smiling.

We still had
twenty minutes to spare before our ride was supposed to arrive. I
found a chemist a couple of shops down from the restaurant, and
bought three different pregnancy tests. I had a decision to make,
and I wanted to know for sure whether or not I actually was
pregnant before I made my choice. I only had a bunch of vampires'
word for it, and one of them was the complete antithesis of a
proper doctor. It could be stress that was making me feel hungry
and tired all the time. I could have some sort of condition that
had nothing to do with pregnancy and everything to do with eating
dodgy cheese. I could have brucellosis, for all I knew.