Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 3) Page 12

  I didn't even bother rationalizing it. Sitting alone in our separate corners wouldn't have made Mike's condition any better. I had done everything I could. So had Dan. All we needed now was time, a bit of good luck, and the answer to more than a few prayers.

  If he was turned – and I don't see how Mike could survive otherwise – would the people of the castle accept him? Everyone had always been unfailingly polite to me, but I was Dan’s guest when all was said and done. Any slight to me might be reported to the big guy. Would they treat Mike the same? Most people genuinely liked him, the comment I had heard from more than one person. Would being a vampire make them look at him differently?

  I think it would be a case of leading from the top. The head guy transmitted a company philosophy. Sometimes it was written out in the form of a mission statement. Most mission statements, however, were a bunch of words strung together resulting in gobbledygook. Occasionally, you saw a mission statement that made sense, like the one that stated: “We manufacture products in the United States and always will. We believe in our country and our employees, in offering the fairest price and the best product we can."

  Nothing ambivalent about that.

  His staff would be guided by Dan’s behavior. I couldn't imagine that he would turn away from Mike, regardless of how he felt about vampires in general.

  He hung up the phone and turned to me.

  “A complication," he said.

  "Mike?"

  He shook his head. "No. Something else."

  He rose from the bed and started gathering up his clothes. We’d been a little wild last night and they were scattered all over the bedroom.

  I was grateful for two things: Dan’s great body and his comfort with himself. He didn’t try to hide. He didn’t gather up his clothes and hold them in front of him, like Adam with a fig leaf. He just grabbed his stuff, smiled at me, and headed for the bathroom.

  The man had a marvelous butt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He's An English Fairy

  I said goodbye to Dan at the door, kissing him lingeringly until he pulled back, swore, then pushed me away. I grinned as I watched him walk away. He turned back once and smiled at me.

  Sighing, I closed the door, putting my hand on it as if to summon him back with just a thought.

  That would have been witchy of me, wouldn’t it? I wondered if I could.

  I should have asked Dan about his mother, but the subject had never come up. There were certain times you could discuss parents, and when you’re making mad passionate love was not one of them.

  Still, I should have asked how Janet was reacting to the witch test. I had unfinished business with Dan's mother, things that were strictly between me and her, but it would have been helpful to know if she was seething, filled with awe, or somewhere in between.

  When was the witch convocation scheduled? Had Dan told me and I’d just forgotten? I’d had enough of witches for awhile, but if I had to, I’d meet with all of them. We’d sit down and be cordial instead of throwing lightning bolts at each other.

  One thing about Dan, he was determined.

  Friends and enemies had to be separated into their respective categories. I’ll bet he wasn’t going to give the Brethren or the witches much time to choose. Either they were for me or against me.

  I was handicapping him a little, because I might be pregnant with a vampire's child. If that were the case, the world as we knew it was never going to be the same.

  The vampires would move heaven and earth to get to me or my child and their attempts wouldn’t end with just one failure. They would keep trying until they succeeded. They were, after all, nearly immortal. The war would never end.

  On that cheery thought, I dressed and prepared to go and find the archives. My attire for the day had nothing to do with the fact that I knew Diane Trenton was floating around the castle. I just felt girly, which wasn’t altogether difficult to understand, given last night’s activities.

  I wore a navy blue pencil skirt, pale pink blouse, and blue jacket. Very conservative, very insurance industry. But my earrings were pink sparkly things that looked like roses, plus I did the whole makeup routine.

  If I say so myself, I looked pretty damn good. In addition, there was an expression in my eyes that spoke of carnal knowledge and ancient wisdom. In other words, I looked like I had gotten some and enjoyed it thoroughly.

  I wanted to go see Kenisha, but it was daytime, so I had to delay until this evening. Dan had said that he was going to check on Mike, so I’d wait for updates from him.

  Instead of the archives, I headed for the kennels first.

  Charlie was in the yard, running with the labs, his ears and tail flopping as he raced around the fence. If the castle went into lockdown, would the dogs still be able to go outside? Or would they be confined to an indoor area?

  I couldn’t be any more incensed at Maddock, but I just added that irritation to my long list of grievances against him.

  I stood there and waited patiently, watching Charlie and the other dogs. Perhaps we humans – or almost humans – should be more like animals. Charlie lived in the now, without thoughts of the past and dreams of the future. I was talking about Charlie, not Opie. Opie had all of the baggage that normal humans have, without the body.

  He noticed me and skidded to a halt, then started to run again, straight at me, tongue lolling, a smile on his doggie face. No one has ever welcomed me like Charlie. His whole body wriggled with delight. His tail was at full furl and his eyes sparkled.

  I knelt and opened my arms, and he was there, licking and panting, rubbing up against me as if he hadn't seen me for weeks or months.

  "I love you, too," I said, giggling and trying to avoid his tongue. “Do you want to come with me? Or do you want to stay here with your girlfriend?"

  He snorted a little, and rubbed his head into my armpit.

  I took that to mean he would rather come with me.

  In the elevator, I pressed the button for S-2. I’d never been to this sub level. Unlike the floor above us, there was no one here. The corridor was as well lit, but it wasn’t crowded with people. As for doors, there was only one, and it was marked simply: Archives. At the side of the door was a brass plaque that read: James Hattington, Archivist. Below the plaque was a large red button. I glanced down at Charlie, shrugged, then pressed it.

  “Well, it didn’t blow up,” I said.

  Charlie only sighed, sank to a recumbent position, making me frown. Opie hadn’t talked to me since I picked her up at the kennels. Was she mad at me for some reason? Or had she just temporarily disappeared? She’d done that a few times since she’d started haunting Charlie, if haunting was the right word.

  As I heard the footsteps coming toward me, I imagined someone like Hermonious Brown, the owner of the bookstore I suspect was blown up because of me. He would be tall with a shambling gait, stooped shoulders, and thick glasses perched on the end of a narrow nose. He would be annoyed because of the interruption and I'd have to carefully explain that I had been given permission by Dan to destroy the peace of the archives, if only for a little while.

  I was so prepared for the care and feeding of an elderly man that I was shocked when the door opened.

  I think I stood there for a little while with my mouth open, before I caught myself, summoned my wits back, and stuttered my name.

  "Yes, Miss Montgomery. Mr. Travis said that you might be coming,” he said, in an accent that sounded vaguely Scottish. His voice was almost hypnotizing. I wanted him to say something else, even recite the weather.

  My hormones were working overtime.

  He stepped back, opening the door.

  I nodded, only because it was the only thing I could think of doing and entered the archives with Charlie at my side.

  The castle had more than its share of gorgeous men and women, at least in comparison to the general population. Here I was, just barely average Marcie and there they were, Stepford people, always pleasant, always sm
iling, always drop dead gorgeous.

  Somebody had to be average, but it wasn’t this man.

  I was susceptible to masculine beauty. Look at my experience with Doug. He'd swept me off my feet and I’d left my mind somewhere along the way. Thanks to Doug, I was now a vampire. But I knew enough about Maddock to know that if Doug hadn't done it someone else would have, maybe even Maddock himself.

  Doug hadn't been this good looking. James Hattington was at least six foot three, which made him Dan’s height. He had black hair as well, but that's where the similarities ended. Dan was handsome in a strong, virile way. This man had the face of a fallen angel, with dark green eyes like a forest pool. You wanted to stare into those eyes for as long as it took to learn his secrets. He had a dimple on either side of a mouth that looked made for kissing. The bottom lip was slightly fuller and now curved into a smile.

  I was staring.

  I yanked my brains back into place and tried to remember why I was there.

  “You knew I was coming?”

  He smiled at me, the same way you would smile at a slow person, with kindness and compassion. The back of my neck got warm.

  Charlie nudged me with his shoulder. I glanced down to find him looking at me. He shook his head just once and I got the message. I was acting like a loon, so much so that even my dog picked up on it.

  I looked away from Mr. Gorgeous. The anteroom of the archives looked like a normal office, complete with two desks situated on opposite sides of the room. One desk was clear of everything but an iMac and a keyboard, one of those tiny Apple things that always made me feel like a giant in a child's playground. The other desk was covered with three stacks of documents, each in a manila folder.

  This desk was a little longer, the better to accommodate the two Apple computers sitting side-by-side. From what I could see on one monitor, the archives evidently ran a database file.

  “Is that what you do down here? Input information day in and day out?”

  "In the quiet times, yes," he said. "But I also answer research questions and that takes up most of my day."

  "Do you have a staff?"

  "Two part-time people, but I'll be hiring a full-time assistant in a month or two."

  “I thought the archives weren’t digitized.”

  “The data files are not available outside the castle, but they are accessible to certain staff.”

  "Did Dan tell you to answer all of my questions?"

  He smiled again and the sun came out in this subterranean room.

  "He did."

  Charlie sat on my feet. I directed my attention to the wooden door on the opposite wall.

  "I'm looking for information on the Brethren," I said.

  "Which species?"

  I glanced at him. "I don't know. I don't even know how many species there are."

  “Twenty-seven," he said. "At last count, but that was last year."

  Well, hell, I didn't know what to do with that information. Let's see, I had thought shape shifters, which was one broad category, werewolves, which may or may not be in the shape shifter category, fairies, elves, and that was about it.

  When I said as much to Mr. Gorgeous, he smiled and gave me that village idiot look again.

  "The shape shifter category contains werewolves, coyotes, and other four-legged shape shifters. Then there are the birds, which is another category within shape shifters, mainly eagles and crows. Then we have the smaller mammals, which includes dogs, cats, and rabbits."

  He led me to a chair beside the crowded desk and I sat, clasped my hands in my lap, and gave him my earnest "student" look. Charlie moved with me, leaning against my right leg, his head on my knee. I was getting lots of signals from him, but I wasn’t certain if they were from Charlie the dog or Opie the silent ghost.

  The problems I have are not normal ones.

  “A lot of the classifications have to do with nationality,” he said. "For example, we have Irish elves and Scottish elves, plus Scottish Brownies who are technically elves. We also have a Norwegian strain, as well as English, Italian, and German elves. The German elves are the most productive. They have a very strong work ethic and it's because of them that people know about elves at all. I mean they show up in the literature and in children's fairy tales. But I use the word fairy only as a descriptive term. Fairies are actually completely different and don’t like to be compared to elves. In fact, none of the Brethren like to mix with other species.”

  Oh goody, and I’d wanted a meeting with their reps. Was I bringing World War III to Arthur’s Folly?

  “Is there any way you could put together a primer for me? Something like Brethren for Dummies?”

  He smiled blindingly at me and for a moment I lost track of my mind again. Charlie made a sound low in his throat. I dragged myself back to the present, met Charlie’s eyes and nodded. I was finally understanding.

  There was something very odd about Mr. Gorgeous.

  “Are you a vampire?” I asked, still looking at Charlie.

  “No,” he said, very calmly and emphatically.

  I made myself glance at him.

  “Then what are you?”

  When his smile began I looked away.

  “I’m an English Fairy,” he said.

  I didn’t know diddly about Fairies, but I suspected they had the ability to charm the socks off of anyone they wished.

  “Does Dan know?”

  Enough time elapsed between the question and the answer that I glanced at him once more.

  “Does Dan know?” I asked again.

  “I believe he does, yes.”

  “Which is why you’re the Archivist,” I said.

  Dan had tucked him down in the subterranean level where he couldn’t get into any trouble or convince any number of women to succumb to his charm. The good thing is that my hormones weren’t to blame. The bad thing was that I was susceptible and that bothered me. As a resident goddess, I should have more immunity than that.

  Had I ever met a Fairy before? I’d bought a car once that I had no business buying. It was much too expensive for what I needed, but I’d been desperate to buy it. Then, there was that red suit I looked awful in, yet I’d really lusted after it in the store.

  “Fairies normally work in sales, don’t they?”

  “We do, but I don’t have an affinity for it.”

  I’d be willing to bet his looks got him in trouble coupled with his Fairy charm. He probably had his share of sexual harassment lawsuits. Either that, or women fighting over him.

  When he smiled, I exchanged a look with Charlie. There were bomb sniffing dogs and drug sniffing dogs. Was Charlie a paranormal sniffing dog? Could he be trained to be sensitive to Fairies? That would be really handy and might save me a fortune in impulse buying.

  He dug around on his desk and came up with a thick folder.

  “After what Mr. Travis said, I’ve put together some salient facts for you.”

  I took the file, wondering just what Dan had told him.

  “Thank you,” I said, standing and making my way to the door. I stopped halfway there, and made a detour to the door in the far wall. “Can I see the archives?”

  He nodded and I opened the door. I half expected to see this yawning abyss of a cave carved into the South Texas Hill Country and miles and miles of metal shelves filled with acres of boxes. Instead, the Archives was a modest room with twenty or so shelves about four feet apart. Instead of boxes, each shelf was filled with manila folders with tabs, like the kind you see at a doctor’s office.

  “You’re free to explore, if you’d like,” Mr. Gorgeous said.

  “I’ll pass, for now,” I said.

  I didn’t know what I was looking for, only that there was enough reading material there to occupy me for months. With any luck, the Brethren for Dummies book would give me the information I needed and I wouldn’t have to visit the Archives again. I thanked him once more and got out of there as fast as I could, closing the door behind me with relief.

/>   Did Dan really realize what the Archivist was? Why didn’t he warn me? Had that just been some sort of test?

  “Men,” I said to Opie. Opie didn’t answer me, but Charlie gave me a look, one that reminded me that he was male.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Can You See Me Now?

  Charlie came with me back to the room. Even if Opie wanted to be with Kenisha, it was still daylight. Kenisha was sleeping like the dead, if you’ll pardon the pun.

  He settled in on the floor beside the chaise as I got a glass of water - just about all my stomach could tolerate at the moment, darn it (I could never figure out when this nausea was going to hit me) - and began to read.

  I read a few sections on the Brethren - the research about shape shifters was fascinating. According to the Archivist, werewolves were dominant among the shape shifters and were prominent in politics and sports. Just how many members of my favorite NBA team - the Spurs, of course - might go furry in a full moon? Oh, and another thing, they could go wolf at any time during the month. Or, with the anti-psychotics that were now available, they didn’t have to change at all.

  Modern medicine could help in a lot of ways.

  One thing I didn’t know was that werewolves had pelt issues. The more they transformed, the more their hair fell out. Some of them evidently looked like giant Mexican hairless dogs around the full moon. The Archivist had speculated that that’s where the urban legend of the Chupacabra had originated. Several of them had been caught attacking livestock around San Antonio. Something they evidently hadn’t learned. You don’t mess with Texas. You absolutely don’t mess with a Texas rancher.

  Did werewolves go bald, then, in their human form? Lots and lots of men in Texas wore hats. Lots and lots of men in Texas wore hats to cover up the fact they were bald. Were they werewolves? And what about the flea issue? Seriously, I don’t care if werewolves were hot guys when they had their pelts and their hair. We have problems with fleas in South Texas. You can’t tell me that they don’t have fleas in either form. That just turns me off. Sorry, it does.