Real Vampires Know Hips Happen Part 5

"Now you're scaring me. What do I have to do to get Jerry cured, Mother? Spit it out." I'd thrown in the "m" word to please her but I put my hands on my hips. I was through playing games.

"You have to give other men a chance to woo you, my dear. I want you to date some eligible males I'll send from my home. I believe you have been, how you would say, settling." She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. "You can do so much better than a rough Highlander."

"You want me to go on some blind dates?" I tried to shrug off the hand that suddenly gripped me hard. Impossible. "Seriously?"

"Yes, I am very serious. Give up this nonsense about staying on the earthly plane. You can find an acceptable mate and come live with me. There are fantastic opportunities for an intelligent woman with ambition on Olympus. If you are half the daughter I think you can become, we will rule there together before we are done. You can't imagine the power we would wield." Her smile this time was so fierce I shuddered.

"Mother, please, reconsider. I know how O-town works after dealing with the Storm G.o.d. It's all about politics. Are you sure there's not a spy listening right now? You don't want to make Zeus mad at you. And talk of a takeover..."

"Hush. You're right. I knew you were smart." She stroked my hair and it was all I could do not to shudder. "Enough talk. I will begin sending you likely candidates for a mate immediately. You must promise to have an open mind. Give each of them a chance to court you. Choose one to be your consort and we will go from there."

"And if none of them please me? I don't see you hooked up with a daddy dearest, do I?" I sighed when she finally released me. The wall held me up but I was close to sliding down it, a heap on the wet bricks, my legs rubber at the thought of anyone from Olympus "courting" me.

"I've never met a soul mate, as you call your Jeremiah. I have made a formal alliance of course. But no love match. So much of what we do in Olympus is for political purposes." She stepped back, her forehead wrinkling.

"Sounds like a swell place." I could almost feel sorry for her. Too bad she'd started our relations.h.i.+p so cruelly.

"All I'm asking is that you try, Gloriana. For the sake of my plan." She wasn't looking for sympathy, just my cooperation.

"And if I don't click with any of these guys? Will you still fix Jerry's memories?" I pushed away from the wall. Time to toughen up and negotiate. "No promises. But I will keep an open mind. Who knows? Maybe I'll fall for one of your G.o.d-lings. But I need some guarantees from you before I start this date-a-thon."

"You aren't calling the shots here, Gloriana. I am." She slung her leather bag over her shoulder. "Know this. If you play along, give the men a fair hearing, then I'll consider your request to 'fix' your lover. I don't offer guarantees. Sometimes these things aren't as simple as they seem."

"What do you mean? Isn't your spell the only thing keeping Jerry from remembering me?" I stepped toward her but she began fading out. "Mother! What the h.e.l.l?"

She examined her pearl pink fingernails. "All will be revealed in good time, Gloriana. Cooperate. That's your best play here."

"Send them on then. Let's get this over with." I looked her over. "Can you fix me up with an outfit like that? You ruined my blouse. What good is being a G.o.ddess if you can't show off a trick or two?"

She smiled and waved her hand. "Certainly. Thought you'd never ask."

I looked down and now wore a fabulous designer wrap dress in a blue silk that matched my eyes. My shoes were another great brand and my coat had a faux fur collar that felt soft next to my chin. Even my purse had morphed into a designer clutch. I hoped she'd tucked my cell and pa.s.sport inside. A wad of English money wouldn't hurt my feelings either.

"Thanks, Mom." I gushed a little before I remembered that I hated her. d.a.m.n my weakness for great clothes. "But this doesn't make up for what you've done. I'll never forgive you for hurting Jerry."

"Of course you will. Or I'll have to alter your memories." Her smile gave me chills. "Now, don't forget the blouse." She pointed to the bloodstained satin resting on top of the garbage bin. "Test it for DNA, I dare you. You will see that we are a match. You're mine, Gloriana. The Siren thing was necessary and I'm sorry for it. If I'd had any idea that Achelous was such an a.s.s, I never would have put you under his power."

As an apology, I figured that was as good as I was going to get. But I couldn't bring myself to hug her, something she clearly wanted.

"I need to get to the doctor's office. You'll let me know when to expect the first of...How many guys do I have to meet?"

"Five, I think. That's a fair number. If none of them suit, then I'll do what I can to restore your Jeremiah's memory." And with a wave, she vanished.

What she can? I didn't like that. It meant she might not be able to fix him completely. With that worry nagging at me, I headed to the end of the alley and toward Bart's office.

I walked into chaos. Jerry held a chair over his head, obviously ready to smack his doctor with it. Caitlin was trying to talk him out of it without much success.

"Jerry? What's going on here?" He didn't spare me a glance, his eyes fixed on the hypodermic needle Bart held.

"He wants to stick me with that. Says it will make me feel better. The last time I was stuck with something, I lost my f.u.c.kin' mind."

"Relax, man. I don't want to make you lose anything. You're overwrought. This is a tranquilizer. I was hoping it would help you relax enough to let me hypnotize you. Then we might get to some of those memories you've lost." Bart laid the needle on the metal cart next to him. "See? I'm putting this away. Obviously not your thing. We'll try something else."

Jerry still wasn't giving up on the chair-in-Bart's-face plan, though I could see his arms quivering with the effort to hold it over his head. Where had his strength gone? And so quickly? It hadn't even been a week since the attack and he'd been feeding steadily. A vampire healed, d.a.m.n it.

"Come now, Jeremiah." Cait reached up and snagged a chair leg. "See reason. Bart here's a doctor. A family friend, Da says. We have to trust him."

"Maybe you do, I don't." But Jerry gave her the chair then collapsed on it once she'd set it on the floor. "s.h.i.+t, I'm weak. What the h.e.l.l's wrong with me?"

Cait started to open her mouth, glanced at me, then closed it again.

"Maybe the poison is still in your system. What do you think, Bart?" I glanced at the doctor.

"I'd know more if he'd let me take a blood sample. But, as you can see, he's not going to let me stick a needle in him. Are you now, Jerry?" Bart waved toward the laden cart that had all sorts of medical equipment on it. "The MRI was an epic fail too. One look at the machine and he was all 'h.e.l.l, no' and would have no part of it."

"Jerry, how can Bart treat you if you won't cooperate?" I slid close to him, but knew he wouldn't welcome my touch.

"You want a blood sample?" Jerry jumped up and stalked over to the cart. There he picked up a scalpel and, like my mother, ran it across his palm. "Here. Help yourself." He held out his bleeding hand.

My nostrils flared and my fangs descended. I looked around the room to see Bart and Cait with the same reaction. It's a knee-jerk vampire thing.

"Jerry! That's not the way we do things now." I covered my mouth with my hand.

"If Bart wants my blood for his test, that's the way I'm doing it. What do you say, Doc?" He shook his hand in Bart's face, drops of blood scattering on the table. That got Bart moving.

"Stop it! You're contaminating my sterile equipment. Hold still." He grabbed a swab, then some gla.s.s squares, obviously readying some samples for a microscope. Whatever.

I swayed toward Jerry, taking a trip down memory lane to the many times we'd exchanged blood. He'd loved to have me drink from him as he drove into me during s.e.x. It had made our o.r.g.a.s.ms more than earthshaking. Oh, G.o.d. Would we ever feel that close again? When I came to my senses, Bart was wrapping Jerry's hand in gauze though I was sure the wound had probably already stopped bleeding on its own. Jerry looked pale as he sat down again.

"Why is he so weak, Bart? Hasn't he been feeding properly?" I edged closer.

"It's the poison, Gloriana." Jerry frowned at me. "What do you expect?"

"She's right to be concerned. You say you've had plenty of blood, most of it synthetic, since you were attacked, but look at you, barely able to stand. Healing sleep should have set you to rights by now." Bart shook his head and picked up the samples. "I want to get on this immediately. a.n.a.lyze what's still in your system. I have the knife the laird gave me too."

"Good." Jerry leaned back in the chair. "You're right. I'm not recovering like I should and I need answers."

"Can I go with you? To your lab?" Cait was on his heels as Bart headed for a staircase. "I did a stint at the medical college here. It was one of my interests for a while. Till I decided it was more fun to play doctor than to be one."

"I'll keep that in mind." Bart grinned. "And I could use the help. Follow me. The lab is upstairs." He turned around, suddenly all business. "Jerry, you need real blood. Quit being a hard-a.s.s and drink from Gloriana. I know she's offered and she is part of the past you can't remember. It really might be a key to unlocking your memory."

Jerry stared at me for a moment. "Doctor's orders?"

"Yes. Now go into my lounge and get comfortable. The tests will take a while." He gestured for Cait to precede him. "The playroom, er, lab is up the stairs, first door on your left."

"Jerry, do what he says. What if this is all you need to get your memories back? Don't let the stubborn Campbell pride screw you over, brother dear. And, don't worry, I'm not messing around." She gave Bart a firm look. "No playing until we figure out how to fix my brother's problem." With that, Cait ran up the stairs, stopping once to take off her ruined shoes. I heard Bart ask her what had happened to them. Cait tossed off a silly explanation that involved stomping out a trash fire in the alley.

"I guess I should give it a try." Jerry sounded like he had been sentenced to the hangman's noose.

"Gee, don't get all mushy now." I took off my coat, laying it next to my bloodstained blouse on a chair, before I strolled into what Bart had called his lounge. It was an elegant waiting room for his clientele. A vampire doctor. I a.s.sumed he took care of paranormal patients, like Ian MacDonald did in Austin. We were immortal but that didn't mean we couldn't have the occasional medical problem.

It was Ian who'd figured out I'd once been a Siren. He was also constantly working on special vampire drugs. I wondered if Bart was also into creating drugs. There was a lot I didn't know about Bartholomew O'Connor. I hoped the laird had checked him out thoroughly. Just because I'd liked Bart on sight didn't mean I should trust him. Hard experience had taught me my instincts weren't always reliable.

"Mushy?" Jerry looked puzzled as he followed me and settled on one end of a long moss green velvet sofa.

"It means 'romantic.' Fat chance of your being that. With me anyway." I sat on the opposite end of the couch then crossed my legs, letting my skirt slide open to show off my sheer black tights. I leaned back into the corner, pretending to be relaxed. Let him ask. Yeah. I was going to play this cool. He wanted my blood, well, he could beg for it.

I pushed forward a little, just to make sure he noticed my cleavage as my dress began to come unwrapped. Of course he noticed and licked his lips. He might be weak, but his male hormones were obviously still healthy.

"You talk strangely. Is that how Americans speak?" He was far from relaxed, his eyes darting from my cleavage to where the skirt kept inching up my legs to the wide-screen television set in the corner of the room. Ha! The cleavage was winning the eye candy contest.

"Not necessarily. It's how modern people talk. When you remember everything, you'll not think my speech strange at all." I bent over to straighten a throw pillow propped against the cus.h.i.+on between us. His eyebrows rose when the edge of my black lace bra slid into view.

"And do modern women all dress like strumpets?" He leaned forward himself, snagging my hand and pulling me closer.

"Excuse me? I'm not a wh.o.r.e, nor dressed like one. Modern, decent women only wish they owned a designer dress like this one." I slapped at his hand. "If you hope to taste my blood tonight, you'll watch your tongue." I jerked my hand free and shoved at him, hard. "I can't wait till you get your memory back. You'll be horrified that you treated me so." Oh, s.h.i.+t, here came the tears. "You love me, Jerry. You respect me. You, you would kill the man who didn't." I turned my face away so he wouldn't see how much he'd hurt me.

"Even after you slept with this other man?" He let some of his own hurt harden his voice.

"I can't keep apologizing!" I whirled around. It was the truth. "It's over. He knows it. I left him behind to come to you. What else can I do to prove you are the only man I want and need?"

"Come here." His voice had gone low, more of a growl than a whisper.

"Just like that." I sighed. "Really? I'm supposed to just shrug off your insults and crawl over to offer my vein?"

"If you mean what you say." He held out his hand. "You must have dressed like that to please me. To seduce me." He moved with vampire speed, suddenly wrapping his arm around my waist. "It's working. I'm still a man, even with a brain empty of thoughts that make any sense to me right now. I know l.u.s.t when I feel it and you are a woman who stirs me." He pulled me across his lap. Oh, yeah, I'd stirred him all right.

"Jerry, this isn't going any further than my feeding you. I hope you know that." I laid my hand on his chest. He was so cool, much too cool to be healthy, vampire or not.

"You offered to come to my bed. Before." He leaned down to nuzzle my neck, his fangs sc.r.a.ping across my jugular.

"I know. That was probably the strumpet in me, wanting to be with you." I ran my fingers up to his thick hair and jerked a warning when he slid a thumb across my nipple. "I've had second thoughts. That wouldn't be right if you truly don't remember me, us. I'm not going to let you use me like a cheap hooker. That's what we call wh.o.r.es these days. If you're interested in updating your vocabulary."

"Forget words. Kiss me again. I like your kisses. Very much." He took my mouth, making me remember that I liked his kisses way more than I should if I was a stranger to him.

But it was that connection that I loved, that taste, that sweet, sweet meeting of our lips and tongues that pressed me against him, craving more. I finally pulled back, though. I was here to give him blood. Period. Until he got his memories back, I had to resist his pull.

"Drink from me, Jeremiah. Heal. This is strictly business between us. You think I'm a strumpet? Perhaps I should ask you to pay for it."

He gave me a considering look. "No, you offered, I accept. Even confused as I am, I have a feeling that if I put money between us, you'd run out of here leaving me thirsty."

I fought a smile. About time he got a clue. I didn't say a word, just pulled his mouth to my neck and felt the pierce of his fangs. He drew deep, taking me. No, taking my blood. But it still brought me close to a shuddering o.r.g.a.s.m. Silly me. To feel so much when this meant nothing to him. But I couldn't help it. His smell surrounded me. I ran my hands over his strong shoulders and remembered all the times this had meant everything to him and to me. Jeremiah Campbell. My friend and lover. I closed my eyes and drifted.

He held my bottom firmly, stroking it almost idly as he drank. It was so familiar that I let myself hope...No, he'd hold any woman who allowed him to drink from her vein just this way. I sighed, my arms around him, my cheek against his, rough with an early evening beard. My love. If only this were real. If only he would finish, look up and remember...

"It's the d.a.m.nedest thing." Bart strode into the room, stopping quickly when he realized Jerry and I sat on opposite ends of the sofa, not speaking. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Or nothing much." I nodded toward Jerry. "Tell him."

"I drank her blood. It gave me strength but no memories. She's mad at me because I said some things I guess I shouldn't have." Jerry shrugged. "Finish what you were going to say. Caitie?" His sister had come into the room and stood next to Bart. "What did you two see in my blood?"

"Nothing. That is, it's clear. Whatever poison entered your bloodstream is gone. We checked the knife and the substance that was on it has disappeared. Your blood is now just simple Campbell blood, similar to mine. I gave Bart a sample for comparison." Cait sighed and sat beside Jerry. "There's really no sign of a contaminant, poison or anything left in your blood to account for your memory loss, Jer. I'm so sorry."

"What does this mean?" Jerry looked from Cait to Bart, then to me.

"That you've got a traumatic form of amnesia." Bart pulled up a chair and sat across from Jerry. "Sorry, but that's like a mental block."

"Block? What the h.e.l.l?" Jerry shook his head.

"You suffered a trauma." Bart glanced at me and I wondered if Cait had told him about my mother. Blocks. Yep. Vamps happily blocked their thoughts when they didn't want anyone to know what they were thinking. But to block memories? Well, we constantly erased mortals' memories to keep our existence a secret. Obviously my mum had done a number on Jerry. But could she undo the damage? Would she?

"You're speaking nonsense. What is a trauma?" Jerry jumped up and began to pace the room. "How did I get it?"

"It's an event, a bad thing that happened to you. You returned to the family home because something bad happened in America, right?" Bart was up now, keeping pace with Jerry as they walked the perimeter of the large room.

"So Gloriana says. But she claims it was a lover's quarrel. I'm a warrior. A bad thing to me is losing a battle. My horse being shot out from under me. I'd think those things would be a trauma to me, not crying about my unfaithful girlfriend."

Bart shot me a hard look. "You're probably right."

I refused to hang my head or pull a scarlet letter out of my new designer bag. Instead I cleared my throat. "Well, Jerry, you did take the news I gave you pretty hard. But the memory loss..." I shook my head. "Beats me why it's hanging around."

"Men don't usually think that way, Jerry. A woman lets us down? We move on. But being stabbed by a family friend would certainly be traumatic. The fact that what you've blocked out is only your time with Gloriana..." Bart glanced at me. "Well, it's suspicious."

"Thanks a heap. I'm sorry, but I didn't do this." I glared at Cait when I saw her start to say something. "Jerry, you need to let Bart hypnotize you. Maybe that will unlock your memories."

"He explained that craziness. But I won't be stuck with his needle." Jerry had a mulish look. "Maybe I don't need to remember those years. I rode in Bart's blasted machine here. I suppose I'll get used to these times. Eventually." He rubbed his forehead again. "If there just weren't so many holes in my head." He tried to laugh. "s.h.i.+t. You know what I mean. Like how the castle got in such bad shape. This America you keep talking about. It's too blasted much!"

"You're right. It is too much to just forget. And there's no need for needles. I can hypnotize you after you've had some gla.s.ses of fine Scots' whiskey. That should relax you enough for me to get you under."

"Under? What will I be under?" Jerry looked around the room. "This all sounds like more witchcraft." He held out his hand to his sister. "Caitie, what do you think of this hypno-thing."

Cait rushed to take his hand. "It's worth a try. It won't hurt you. It can be very relaxing. I've done it myself." She smiled at Bart. "I had a fling with an a.s.sociate of Freud's in Paris. I'll try almost anything once."

"Good to know." Bart walked to a crystal decanter and gla.s.ses sitting on a sideboard against the wall. "I know most vampires don't drink alcohol, but I've done experiments. This won't hurt you. It's smooth and should go down easily. Gloriana?"

"What the h.e.l.l? My night can't get any worse." I sat in a chair after it became clear that Bart was going to persuade Jerry to lie back on the sofa. I held the gla.s.s of whiskey, sniffing it and wondering if I could really drink. My friend Israel Caine was a recovering alcoholic. I sure wasn't going to share Bart's discovery with him. I thought about mentioning that Ian had brought up some of the same theories and cures Bart had, but figured throwing in the name MacDonald now would put Jerry off the whole thing.

Jerry tossed back his first gla.s.s with a sigh then held out the empty for a refill. Before long he was stretched out, his boots off so he didn't soil the fine velvet.

I sipped the drink. It burned going down but I enjoyed the idea of getting falling down drunk. Not yet. Not when there was a chance Jerry might wake up and know me. Really know me.

"What do I have to do?" Jerry had his head propped up against the throw pillow as he sipped the drink. He smiled. "Fine Scots whiskey. d.a.m.ned if this isn't a treat. Don't know when I drank last. Guess I just thought I should stick to blood after I was turned."

"We all did. But my family is in the distillery business. I was determined to see if we could still at least check the product." Bart smiled as he filled Jerry's gla.s.s again. "To my surprise, as long as we aim for high quality and moderation, this won't hurt us. Of course you are not back to normal so I'll watch you carefully in case your reaction isn't right."