Authors: Lydia Michaels
No matter how much she
gave him a hard time, there was something about him that stuck to her, stuck
with her. He was like a fungus she couldn’t shake. She wished she had pretty
words like he did to let him know how she felt. Love was a word she didn’t like
to toss around too often. She simply didn’t say it.
She wished she had some
orange Tic-Tacs like Juno gave Bleeker or something. Even a radio playing some
Peter Gabriel that she could hold over her head
Say Anything
style would
be nice. She thought about the song Adam Sandler sang Drew Barrymore in
The
Wedding Singer
and wished she could remember the words. She had no words.
He’d just asked her to
marry him and confessed his love and she had absolutely no idea what to say.
She had never imagined a moment like this in her life. In a million years she
would not have imagined being in this perfect place with this man and feeling
the things she was feeling.
She turned to face him,
wrapping her other hand around the one that already held hers. He smiled at her
and she said, “Christian, I know we’re going to live all old fashioned and
stuff, but for what it’s worth, I’ll always let you hold the remote control.”
He smiled and then
frowned. “Pardon me?”
“The remote. I don’t
share mine with anyone. Not that it matters anymore because we won’t have TV on
the farm, but…there you have it. My remote. It’s yours.”
“You are a strange
female, Delilah.”
She smiled. “I know. And
you’re a really weird Amish vampyre. But if Felix Unger and Oscar Madison could
make it work, I’m pretty sure we can too.”
“Who?”
“The Odd Couple.” She
hummed the theme song. “Oh, forget it.” Then she kissed him.
* * * *
When they arrived at the
farm it was dusk. Delilah had thought they would go to Christian’s home, maybe
make nice-nice on all that will you marry me talk, but they ended up knocking
on the door of some large colonial.
A man opened the door.
“Good evening,
Bredder
Christian.” He looked at Delilah and frowned. She
was wearing jeans and a hoody. Not very Amish of her.
“Good evening, David. Is
Eleazar in?”
The man nodded and
stepped back, granting them entry. “He is in his study.”
Christian held her hand
and led her down a long corridor. “What is this place?” she whispered.
“This is the Safe House.
It is where Bishop King and his family reside. Over there is Council Hall,
where we have our meetings.”
“Are you like a mayor?”
“No, I am an elder.”
“The elder of
Schrockville?”
“No, just an elder.”
He knocked on a large
wooden door that was partially opened.
“Enter,” a strong male
voice said.
Christian pressed the
door the rest of the way open and they stepped in.
Hello Handsome Man.
The
man sitting at the desk was gorgeous. He had short black hair and black eyes.
“Christian. Are you just
getting in?”
“Yes, Bishop. I’ve come
to formally introduce my mate, Delilah. She has agreed to marry me.”
The bishop rose from his
seat and smiled. “Well, that is wonderful. Your mother will be pleased. It is
nice to finally meet you, Delilah.” He nodded in her direction, but did not
attempt to touch her. Vampyres were weird like that.
“I would be pleased if
the ceremony was soon,” Christian said.
Delilah didn’t know much
about Amish weddings, but she felt like this was a thing she should chime in
on. She cleared her throat. “I get a say in our wedding, right?”
The bishop’s lips
quirked to the side. “Our wedding ceremonies are fairly simple, child. But I am
sure you can arrange for a few special touches.”
“Like a vodka luge?”
They both looked at her with misunderstanding. “It’s an ice sculpture that
vodka pours out of. I saw it on TV once.”
“I will let you speak to
the other females and you can decide what you want. Keep in mind it is a simple
affair,” Christian said.
“Have a seat,” the
bishop said, waving them to a set of chairs across from his desk. “How was your
trip?”
“It was…interesting.”
Christian released her hand as they sat. Delilah looked around the office. It
was very plain.
“There is a meeting
tomorrow you will most likely want to attend.”
Christian raised a brow.
“It is not Tuesday.”
“Yes. Dane has asked to
meet with the elders. It will be a closed meeting.”
“What is the purpose?”
Christian asked.
“He wants to discuss
Isaiah’s future.”
Delilah didn’t know who
Isaiah was, but she knew Dane. He was the punk who turned her over to Christian
when she tried to escape. He was his half-brother.
“How do you see the
meeting going?”
The bishop leaned back
in his chair, steepling his fingers over his chest. “I see it being an
emotional discussion. I do not look forward to seeing Ezekiel hurt.”
“The boy has been hurt
too, Eleazar. Isaiah took his mother.”
“There are many things I
endeavor to find forgiveness for. Isaiah was once a dear friend. To see him now
is…distressing. But we cannot keep him in a cell forever.”
They were keeping
someone in a cell? That didn’t seem too Amish.
“I am surprised he has
remained there.”
The bishop nodded, a
look of consternation on his face. “I as well. He seems to have calmed since
being captured. Perhaps there is a sense of home he detects about this place.
It is difficult for me to imagine he is completely lost.”
“He is lost, Eleazar.
You know it is the truth. There is no point in avoiding what must be done.”
A long steady breath was
expelled from the bishop. “Indeed. Do you know how you will vote?”
“I believe my opinion on
the matter is quite clear.”
“And what of your
opinion when the presence of your half-sister comes into play, Christian?”
“She is only a girl to
me. I do not know her and did not know her before her accident. I feel for the
boy, but we cannot have madness here. They are threats to the world and it is
our duty to protect the innocents from such evil.”
“I would be careful who
you share your thoughts with. There are some who are quite attached to the girl.”
Christian nodded. “The
same who are hoping there is a salvation for Isaiah.”
The bishops nodded. “The
Hartzlers care for the Foster children very much. It will be difficult for
Ezekiel to not only lose his brother, but watch the girl go as well.”
“I see no issue in
leaving the girl be for a time. She is young and she is weak. I feel that Dane
could use the time with her that he still has. Perhaps he can find his own
closure before a decision is forced upon him.”
“Is that compassion I
detect in your voice, Christian?”
“I am not without
empathy, Eleazar.”
“I’ll be sure to alert
the others.” The bishop turned on Delilah. His expression lightened and the
matter of ‘the girl’ and the crazy guy seemed to be put aside. “Vito is coming
in tomorrow. He can take a list of items from you. If there is anything
specific you require for your wedding, be sure to let him know.” He turned to
Christian. “I imagine she still has belongings elsewhere.”
“Yes.”
“I will arrange for Vito
to handle that.”
“Is this Destiny’s brother?”
Delilah asked, recalling the girls mentioning that he got them underwear and
things they couldn’t get here on the farm. She remembered Gracie mentioning
that the bishop had a thing for silk panties and couldn’t stop the image that
suddenly filled her mind of the impressive man in front of her wearing nothing
but a pair of pink lacies.
He scowled at her. “Your
mate has quite an imagination, Christian. I look forward to watching your
relationship progress.”
Christian stood and
Delilah felt her cheeks burning.
Damn mind reading vampyres.
* * * *
That evening, after a
bath and a frisky bout of love making, they lay in bed in the darkness.
Christian had fallen asleep and Delilah thought about what kind of wedding she
would like. It wasn’t like she had many options in terms of style. Her wedding
dress had been made before she even agreed to marry the arrogant man.
She thought about Vito
coming and decided she should make a list. Slipping out of bed, she went to
Christian’s study and sat at the desk. It took her a few tries to light the
lamp, but she figured it out. There was a quill and an ink jar set neatly at
the corner of a stack of papers. Her fiancé was a little OCD.
She dipped the quill and
tested it out, smiling at the scraping sound it made across the paper.
Sometimes old stuff was cool.
She made a list for over
an hour. Thinking hard about the things she wanted and unsure if she would ever
have the option of asking again. When she returned to the upstairs there was a
sense of peace still with her.
She thought about the
canyon and how it had made her feel. Rather than return to bed, she turned and
went into the spare room where she had placed her paints. Would this room
someday belong to her children? Children. A warm sensation spread in her chest.
Delilah collected her
paints and brushes and went to the hall. The stairs were wide and along a blank
wall. There was a railing on one side. She decided it was the perfect place for
her masterpiece, a wedding present to her husband. She settled onto a step and
began unscrewing various jars.
As her brush threaded
over the plaster walls her mind wondered. She was getting married—to an Amish
vampyre. Strange, the bloodsucking portion of the epiphany should have been the
weird factor, but it was actually the fact that she’d agreed to be his wife
that threw her the most.
Since her mid-twenties,
she’d been somewhat of a loner. She’d always been a wild card, but after losing
her Nan she was never quite the same. If not for her clients, days could go by
without her even uttering a word. Maybe that was why she talked so much to
herself.
As her brush dipped into
the deep amber shades, highlighting the tree branches she painted, she
acknowledged how truly lonely she’d been. She wasn’t a slut, but she was a far
cry from prudent.
The night she’d met
Christian she’d suffered a reaction unlike anything she’d ever felt. Something
deep inside her wanted—no, needed—to be with him. Sure, he was super-hot, but
it was more than that. She didn’t think he used any of his fancy vampyre tricks
to make her put out. It was all her. Then he’d bit her.
Strange, the initial
revulsion and sense of being a victim was no longer as prominent. She was
coming to accept that he did what he had to do. She now understood being called
to one’s mate was a matter of life or death. She didn’t like to think of
Christian dying when there was something she could have done to prevent it. It
was sort of nice to think she saved him. To think he could have gone mad if he
hadn’t claimed her…well, that was just something she didn’t want to think
about.
And now she was going to
marry him. How odd.
“Pintura?”
She stilled and glanced
to the top of the stairs. Dawn had arrived. Her mind had carried her away for
hours, the therapeutic stokes of her brush passing time without her notice. He
stood in only his pants, a curious look on his face.
“Hi.”
“You are painting
another picture.”
She placed her brush on
the drop cloth. “Sorry. I should have asked.”
He shook his head. “We
shall have the most interesting house on the farm.”
Her lips curled. He
wasn’t upset with her. “Do you like it? It’s the canyons we saw.”
He slowly stepped down
the stairs and touched her cheek, his gaze looking only at her. “It is the
prettiest masterpiece I have ever set eyes on.”
“It’s a wedding present.”
“Your husband shall be a
blessed man.”
“Christian?” She said
softly, unsure of what to do with all the novel emotions swirling inside of
her. “Will we be happy? I mean, will you be strict?”
His brow creased.
“Everything I do, every decision I make, is a result of your safety, Delilah. I
am destined to protect you. My intention is never to punish you.”
“But…you’re not always
easy to understand.”
“I could say the same
for you, my love. We will learn, learn each other’s likes and dislikes, and
learn how to bend.”
There was no stopping
the chuckle that slipped past her lips. “I’m Gumby compared to you. You aren’t
very bending.”
“I can be. Give it time.
I find I would do anything to hear you laugh or see you smile.”
Her cheeks warmed.
“Sweet talker.”