Vampire Mine - Kerrelyn Sparks [31]
“You stood by me in my time of need,” she told him solemnly. “I hope to return to heaven soon, but in the meantime, if there is anything I can do for you, I will do it gladly.”
He didn’t dare tell her the first thing that came to mind. Once he pushed aside those lustful thoughts, he recalled her ability to sense death. “There may be something ye can do to help us, but I’ll need to discuss it first with my friends.”
“You mean other good vampires?”
“We call ourselves Vamps. Together with some shifters and mortals, we’re trying to protect mankind and defeat the bad vampires. We call them Malcontents.”
She nodded. “I have always been grateful that there are good vampires determined to fight the bad ones, especially since the angels are not allowed to interfere. Whenever Zack complained about the Malcontents, as you call them, we were told to trust in the Lord, that He had already sown the seeds to resolve the matter. I believe He was referring to you and your friends.”
Connor swallowed hard. He’d heard Father Andrew say much the same thing over the last few years, that the Vamps were actually fulfilling some kind of divine purpose in their attempt to protect humanity and destroy the Malcontents. Roman, the former monk, believed it, but Connor had rejected it as a load of psychobabble designed to make them feel good about being Undead. As if it made any sense at all for them to feel warm and fuzzy about being cold and stiff.
“I apologize for the way I reacted to your . . . condition,” Marielle continued. “I was upset about those who died at the campground, especially the children, so when I realized you were a vampire, I—for a little while, I feared the worst.”
“ ’Tis all right.”
She took a deep breath and extended a hand. “Then I would be honored to call you friend, Connor Buchanan.”
“Aye.” His heart expanded at the miracle of an angel wanting to befriend him, but he hesitated to take her hand.
She sighed. “I will try to restrain myself from peering past the black wall surrounding your heart.”
He reached out, slowly enveloping her delicate hand with his larger, rougher one. The instant his palm pressed against hers, he felt a frisson of awareness sizzle through him. He reacted, folding his calloused fingers over her hand and holding tight.
He looked into her eyes, and he knew then, with a sinking sensation of doom, that he would not be able to resist touching her again. His heart, his soul, his mind, his body—all were screaming at him to pull her close into his arms. Kiss her, cherish her, make love to her, and never let her go.
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. She glanced down at their hands, then back to his face. “Interesting,” she murmured. “I didn’t realize handshakes were so—”
A growl emanated from her stomach.
With a gasp, she dropped his hand. “Was that me?” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Is it normal for a body to make noises?”
Connor smiled. “Ye’re probably hungry, that’s all.”
“Oh.” She rubbed her belly. “I was experiencing a curious sensation, as if I were terribly empty and needed something deep inside me. I suppose that is hunger.”
Or desire. His smile faded. Had a simple handshake caused her to feel the same pull that he had? Could she possibly long for him? She had moaned with pleasure earlier in his arms. Did he dare hope—
“I don’t suppose you have any manna here?” she interrupted his thoughts.
“Manna?”
“It’s always been my main source of nourishment.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I could stomach any of your bottles of blood.”
“Nay, they would probably make you ill.” He opened some cabinet doors, searching for mortal food. “Howard and Phil come here often to hunt. There should be something— Here, ye might like this.” He handed her a candy bar, then fetched a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“The food is inside?” She turned the packaged bar over