Runaway Vampire (15 page)

Read Runaway Vampire Online

Authors: Lynsay Sands

Mary's eyes narrowed and then he saw her nose rise before he turned his gaze back to the road, and wasn't really surprised when she snapped, “Actually, I don't have body issues.”

He was starting to smile at the show of spirit when she added, “At least not with
my
body.”

Dante's head snapped around with shock. “Surely you are not suggesting you have problems with
my
body?”

“Eyes front,” Mary said sweetly, using his own line on him. Once he turned his attention back to the road, she said, “Yes, I'm afraid I do have issues with your
body. If you looked more like Dave I'd be dancing around the RV naked and jumping you at every turn.”

Caught briefly by the image of her dancing around the RV naked, it was a moment before the rest of what she'd said sank through his muddled brain. Once it did, Dante squawked, “
Dave?

“Well, not like Dave,” she said quickly, and then soothed his ego by adding, “I'm not attracted to him like I am to you. I just meant if you looked like you but more his age.”

Dante relaxed a little, a slow smile coming to his lips before he reminded her, “I am older than him.”

“Yes, but you
look
twenty-five,” she pointed out with exasperation.

“So?” he asked mildly.

“So my children are older than that,” she said with disgust.

“And that bothers you,” he said gently, and then pointed out, “Many women would take pleasure and pride in being able to show off a handsome younger man as their lover.”

Mary snorted. “Then they're idiots. Because everyone is snickering behind their hands and assuming he's there for money or something.”

“I have a great deal of money, Mary. I am not with you for anything but yourself,” he assured her solemnly.

She fell silent for a minute, and then said quietly, “It's okay when you're kissing me. Then I forget about how young you look and how old I am. But when you aren't kissing me, all I can think about is that you look
twenty-five to my sixty-two, and I feel like a dirty old woman contemplating raping a child.”

Dante chuckled at the claim, and then assured her, “I am
not
a child. And trust me, it would not be rape.” He glanced in the side mirror as a car whipped past them on the highway, then cast a smile her way and offered, “I could tie you down the next time so you can be sure you are not raping me.”

Mary's eyes widened and he could hear her heart rate speed up at the very thought, then she swallowed thickly and said, “Anyway, Joe and I—”

“Coward,” Dante interrupted, affectionately. “I know you would like me to tie you up. Your heart sped up at the suggestion.”

Mary flushed, but forged on as if he hadn't interrupted. “Joe and I got back together, but this time it was totally different than the first part of our marriage. We were equals, and friends. We had learned how to communicate with each other, and made sure we did. The last twenty-eight years of our marriage were wonderful. We enjoyed ourselves and each other and did everything together.” She paused then added, “But maybe it wasn't as great as I thought. Because I trusted he was faithful to me after that, but apparently Dave—”

“Dave was much younger in his memories of his catting-around days with your husband,” Dante interrupted solemnly. “It is most likely they occurred during those fifteen years when you and Joe were having your war of a thousand tortures.”

Mary breathed out a little sigh of relief at this news,
obviously glad Joe hadn't betrayed her again after all the work they'd done to save their marriage. Dante supposed it would have put a pall on what she presently considered the happiest years of her life. But he intended to show her what true happiness was. He would spend the rest of his days doing so. He would never betray her, would always want her, and once he turned her, she would be able to have those children she had always longed for. And Dante would be happy to give them to her. In fact, he knew without a doubt that he would enjoy planting them in her belly and fully intended on practicing doing so the first chance he got. And he would continue that practice until he could convince her to accept being his life mate and agree to the turn, then he would keep her in bed for a year whether she got pregnant quickly or not.

Dante glanced to her again and almost sighed aloud. The woman might think she was too old for him, but he could not look at her without thinking about getting her naked. The things he wanted to do to her . . . and would already be doing to her if not for the constant interruptions and then the arrival of the box and the need to save his brother. But once they had captured his and Tomasso's kidnappers . . .

By the time he was done, Dante was determined the woman would know how beautiful and sexy she really was.

“War of a thousand tortures?”

Dante glanced to her at that squawk. She'd obviously just realized what he'd called the fifteen years of misery during the first part of her marriage. Shrugging,
he said, “That is what those years sound like to me.” Smiling to soften his words, he added, “And I will be most careful not to anger you ever.”

Mary chuckled at the claim, and then fell silent for a moment before glancing at him curiously. “Can you really hear my heartbeat?”


Si.

“How?” she asked curiously. “I mean the engine is humming, the windows are cracked open and a breeze is coming in, and everything is jingling and rattling in the back. How can you possibly hear my heart over all of that?”

“The nanos—”

“And where the hell did the fangs come from?” she burst out suddenly, bringing up something that had been nagging at the back of her mind since he'd bitten Dave. “You said the nanos kept your people at peak condition. Peak condition for humans does not include fangs for sucking blood.”

“They—”

“Come to that,” she interrupted again, growing a bit agitated. “Reading and controlling minds isn't a usual condition for humans either, at their peak condition or not.”

“Mary?” he said softly.

“Yes?”


Sta'zitto
,” he suggested gently, and then added, “
Per favore.

Mary blinked. “What does that mean?”

“Please, shut up,” he translated, his tone affectionate. “I will explain if you just let me.”

Mary narrowed her eyes, but nodded, and waited for these explanations.

“In Atlantis, the nanos kept their hosts at their peak condition. “But, as I mentioned, Atlantis fell and the survivors, the ones with the nanos, found themselves in a world much less advanced. There were no more transfusions. No more blood. But the nanos had work to do, and kept using the blood that was in their host.” Dante paused briefly to narrow his eyes at the rear camera screen, and then continued, “Grandfather says it was a bad time. When the blood is low in the veins, the nanos seek it out in the organs. It is very painful. Many of the survivors died. Often killing themselves.”

“So you can die?” she asked. “You aren't really immortal?”

“We can die, but it is hard to kill us. You must cut off the head and make sure it is kept away from the body for a certain amount of time. Or we can burn to death.”

“So these immortals that killed themselves . . . ?”

“Set themselves on fire, usually. Or convinced someone to cut off their head for them.”

“Oh,” Mary breathed, thinking the agony must have been extreme to drive those poor people to such a terrible end.

“Those who survived did so because they did not give up. The nanos eventually forced a sort of evolution on their hosts to get the blood they needed to continue their job.”

“The fangs,” she guessed solemnly.

Dante nodded. “Our people developed fangs to
gather the blood we needed. But they also developed increased speed and strength to help them in the hunt, as well as better hearing, better vision and even night vision.”

“Is that why your eyes glow silver?” Mary asked curiously. “The night vision, I mean? Cats' eyes kind of glow in light at night and they're supposed to have good night vision.”

“I am not sure,” he admitted. “I know the silver has something to do with the nanos. All immortals have silver or gold flecks in their eyes that glow in certain circumstances.”

“What kind of circumstances?”

“When we need blood,” he answered. “Or when we feel . . . passionate.”

“Ah,” Mary muttered and lifted her mug to her lips. Finding it empty, she set it in the holder, and clasped her hands in her lap, simply waiting.

“We also suddenly had the ability to read minds and control people, which made hunting without being discovered much easier.”

“I imagine so,” she said dryly, and then frowned and asked, “But how did the nanos do that? I mean, they weren't programmed to do that.”

“No, but their main directive was to keep their host at their peak condition,” Dante pointed out.

“Yes.”

“And they needed blood to do that.”

“But they use more blood than the human body can produce,” Mary remembered his earlier words.


Si.
” He nodded. “So, I presume the nanos just added getting blood as part of their task to complete the original task.”

“You presume?” she asked. “Don't the scientists who developed this have some idea—?”

“The scientists who developed the nanos did not survive the fall of Atlantis,” he interrupted.

Mary raised her eyebrows. “None of them had the nanos?”

“Apparently not,” he said with a shrug.

“So, only the human guinea pigs survived Atlantis,” she said slowly. “And they have no idea about how the stuff in their bodies works?”

“We have some knowledge now,” Dante assured her. “We have scientists among our ranks who have discovered much and are always working to discover more. However, as I say, technology in the new world our people found themselves in was far behind Atlantis. And none of them were scientists. They had to wait for science to catch up a bit. Most of the discoveries about our nanos have been made in only the last century.”

“So your people wandered around for centuries with no clue about what they had in their own bodies,” Mary muttered. “Weird.”

“How much do you think most people with a pacemaker know about the mechanism inside their chest?” Dante asked with amusement. “Or the people who have been given artificial hearts until a transplant is found, how much to you think they know of the mechanics of it?”

“Probably not much,” she admitted wryly.

“Hmm.” He nodded.

They fell silent for a moment and Mary was comfortable enough with him to allow it until she noted the worry on his face. She suspected it was because of the black van that had started tailing them some miles back. It was probably the kidnappers, and she had no doubt they would probably try something. The problem was they didn't know where or when or what it might be.

“Tell me about your childhood,” Mary said abruptly to distract them both. “What was it like growing up a vampire in 1905?”

Dante winced, and his voice was pained when he said, “We prefer the term
immortal
.”

“But you can die, so you aren't immortal,” she pointed out. “You do, however, have fangs and drink blood like a vampire.”


Si
, but we were around before the English invented the vampire. Before even the Dacians and their
strigoi
. We are Atlanteans, and immortals,” he ended with finality.

Since he was so touchy on the subject, Mary decided to let it lie for now, and said, “So? 1905? Italy? I imagine it was beautiful? No pollution, no cars, no—”

“No,” he said dryly.

“No?” she asked with surprise.

“Mary, I was a baby in 1905. I don't remember much,” he pointed out gently. “But I do know pollution was no better than it is now. In fact, it may have been worse.”

“Really?” she asked with surprise. “I always thought it was a more modern problem.”

Dante shook his head. “From what my grandmother says, pollution has been a problem for quite some time. Especially in more populated areas. She said it was a problem even in Roman times.”

“Well,” Mary murmured, “That's depressing.”

Dante smiled faintly.

“So, tell me about growing up then, instead,” Mary suggested.

He glanced from the rear camera view to the road and shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

Mary considered the question. She almost asked what it was like being a twin, but didn't want to make him think of his missing brother, so instead asked, “Did you like school growing up?”

“Tomasso and I were homeschooled,” Dante said sadly.

So much for not making him think of his brother, Mary thought wryly.

“Most born immortals are,” he added. “It is safer.”

“Safer how?” she asked curiously.

“Well, children are not known for their self-control or consideration of consequences,” he pointed out.

“And they might fang out and attack another student in a school?” she suggested, trying to follow his reasoning.

“They might,” Dante acknowledged. “Or they might get injured on the playground, which could be equally dangerous. A serious injury could land them at a hospital before adult immortals could get there to prevent it, which might lead to blood tests or something else that might reveal the nanos in their blood,” he pointed out,
and then added, “But even small injuries could cause problems because they would heal so quickly, which would draw attention.”

“Yeah, I guess it would,” Mary agreed thoughtfully.

“And then there is the risk of a young immortal sharing the knowledge of what they are with a mortal friend, thinking they may never betray them,” Dante went on. “Unfortunately, friendships do not always last a lifetime, and even if they do, friends have falling-outs and the mortal might reveal that secret in a moment of spite.”

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