A Vampyre's Daughter by Jeff Schanz (free novel 24 TXT) 📖

see if there was any kind of objection to him admitting to premeditated murder. He had good reason, but without the rest of the story, it may not be seen that way. She was somber, though showed no indications that she saw him in a different light. She had been laughably bad at hiding her emotions thus far, and Brandt was hopeful that their relationship wouldn’t go south, and she would still be… what? What would she still be? A friend? A potential girlfriend? A nice nursemaid? How had she seen Brandt before? She didn’t know anything about him other than he was a poor schmuck who happened to be injured and stuck here. What were either of them to each other?

All Lia did was nod. From a girl that seemed to be a rainbow of instantaneous emotion, this was the most understated and unexpected reaction.

To clarify, Brandt restated what he considered to be the big deal. “I’ve killed several of their men.”

Again she nodded. As was her custom, she noticed his consternation and addressed what she thought was troubling him. “You have killed men in the Army before, haven’t you?”

“Yes. But that was war. It’s sanctioned and I am not held responsible.”

“You did what was necessary.” It was delivered in her new, mysteriously flat manner.

“Yes.” And some of that wasn’t sanctioned either. And it bothered me then too. “But this is different. I’m not in the Army anymore. There’s no war here. This was my decision. And the key is if they do find out what really happened, they will seek revenge. But they may not find out. I may have significantly weakened their resources. And just maybe I’m not worth sending more men after. But I can’t be sure.”

Lia seemed satisfied with what he was telling her. She was by no stretch happy, though not angry, or terrified, or sad either. There was just that leaden weight that she now seemed to carry. His own weight was being lifted, but perhaps all he was doing was placing it on her. And her father too, if he existed.

Brandt continued. “Listen, all I’m really trying to do is warn you. To keep you from getting hurt. I don’t know if anything will happen, but you needed to know.”

Lia looked to the horizon for an excruciatingly long moment without a response. Brandt didn’t press, wanting to give her time to truly comprehended everything he said. There was so much more he needed to add and explain, but this was the core issue that needed to be clear.

Finally, she said, “We will protect you.” Those luminous blue eyes of hers met his gaze and held him. Though the weight she carried was still there, her expression had softened to the maternal one she had shown the other day when she felt for his fever. “We will all be safe.”

“Lia,” started Brandt, still assuming she was being naïve. “I don’t think you’re getting it. We’re talking about well-armed, trained killers. Have you ever seen anyone like that?”

Though not one for subtlety, Lia squinted a little in what seemed like a subtle indication of offense. “We’ve seen more than you know,” she said. She was once again that confident, in-control Lia. And she was not letting go of the “we,” either.

Brandt decided to appeal to that. “Can we at least discuss it with your father? This is pretty important to him too.”

Lia smiled, not cheerfully, and stared once again at the newly dark horizon. Only a hint of the sun’s glow remained.

“He already knows,” she said.

Excuse me? Brandt at least thought before he spoke again, realizing her response made sense if she was the one keeping her father alive in her mind. Of course, he knows. Because he's right there in your head.

“I’m glad,” said Brandt. “I’d like to talk with him about it myself though.”

She nodded with no hint of subterfuge. “You can, when he arrives,” she said.

Brandt wasn’t sure what else to say, so he bobbed his head once and turned to face the final remnants of the sunset. Whatever illusions Lia had weren’t going to be easily penetrated by a single conversation. There were a lot of things to deal with and think about, that included. So, everything in his mind churned and tumbled like a spinning Bingo cage as he watched the horizon turn dark blue.

We will protect you.

How, sweetheart? How? And how can I protect you?

He hadn’t realized that during his internal dialogue, he had rubbed her hand, which had remained on his knee. She hadn’t removed it or objected.

He was about to ask another question when Lia spoke first. “There are things you should know about us too,” she said.

“Ok,” he said. Maybe she’s going to get around to the father thing. Or tell me she has a bunker and an anti-aircraft battery. Or her father is the captain of a naval destroyer. He sighed at his own unhelpful inner humor.

She stood up and held out a hand for him to stand as well. He obliged. She didn’t release his hand after he was standing. Instead, she leaned closer and grasped his other hand. She was pressing her breasts against his ribs. If he wasn’t wrapped tightly in bandages he would be wincing from the pressure on his bruises. At that moment, he had other things occupying his mind besides banged up ribs. With a nervous smile, her head tilted up close to his. She was trembling. She stared into his eyes, unblinking, wanting. Brandt had no idea what to do. It’s not like he never thought about doing this, but this particular moment didn’t seem like any kind of right time. He braced for her to kiss him, but she didn’t. She just stared at him, biting her lip, looking more nervous every second.

Finally, she said in a halting voice, “I am not supposed to… It is not proper for me to…”

Oh, good god. She’s beating herself up because she wants to kiss me, but it’s not allowed in her old-fashioned customs. Maybe she’s never kissed anyone before.

Brandt was beating himself up too. On one hand, he had no qualms about kissing a beautiful girl, even if she was a strange bird. But on the other hand, he worried that there was some much bigger meaning behind it, like the matchmaking thing. Or maybe his hesitancy was because he believed she was delusional about her father, and maybe delusional about him. And delusional about the possible danger they faced. Not to mention, kissing her might feel like it was taking advantage of a naïve child. She had no idea what she was getting into, and maybe neither did he. He was leaning towards obliging her anyway, yet he still delayed.

She was the one who pulled away and tried to hide her face. Brandt had been so caught up in his mental turmoil that he didn’t notice her struggle. Her eyes began to tear.

Still haltingly, she said, “You needn’t have worried. It would’ve have obligated you to anything.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “I just wanted a kiss from you once, before… I worried you wouldn’t be willing after you found out.”

He wanted to say he was sorry he hesitated. He wanted to kiss her, if nothing else, to make her feel better. He hated when women cried. And what a horrible sacrifice to make for that cause. But instead of saying any of this, he said, “Found out what?”

Maybe she’s buried a body on the island. Maybe the body’s her father. Whatever it was that she was so worried about revealing, she thought it would make him balk at kissing her. I’ve buried a lot of bodies myself. How bad could it be on an isolated island?

She dabbed her eyes one more time and seemed to gather some emotional strength. “It’s only fair you should know,” she said. She looked like a girl who had just eulogized her favorite pet. A stunningly beautiful girl – woman, who was not going to get what she wished for, resigned and putting up a brave front.

Brandt grimaced, disappointed in himself. You’re a freaking idiot. A few days ago you didn’t give a shit about your life and now you’re worried about kissing a pretty girl?

“Follow me inside. I'll show you,” she said and grabbed his hand. She turned and tried to lead him away without looking at him.

Brandt had a revelation. The coffin in the basement. The one he was not supposed to see. It had to be her father's. She was going to take Brandt and show him her deceased father and admit that she pretends he's still alive. Why would that be a deal-breaker? Maybe she props up the corpse in a chair like Anthony Perkins' character in “Psycho” and interacts with it. If Brandt was alone on an island for years, maybe he'd talk to corpses as well. So, she’s got mental baggage. So, what? Most every woman in L.A. has baggage. I’ve got a lot of baggage too. We could pool it together and have an interesting pile of lunatic luggage.

But once she showed him whatever it was, the opportunity would have passed. She needed his trust now.

Brandt almost bit through his own lip in self-deprecation. He did not allow Lia to lead him. Instead, he stood his ground and pulled her back. She stumbled slightly before she let her body bend back toward him. Facing him, she looked genuinely confused. He didn't wait for his untrustworthy brain to change his mind. Grasping Lia's shoulders, he pulled her to him. Though she didn't resist, she didn't come to him either. Her bewildered look remained. The nervousness in her eyes grew. Brandt engulfed her in his arms and placed one hand behind her head. She still did not resist. Her body shivered slightly. Brandt realized that Lia's arms had been pinned to her side, so he loosened his embrace so she could push away if she chose. But she didn't push away. She just relaxed in his grip and shivered more noticeably. She opened her mouth to say something, but her lips quivered, unable to emit the words. He wanted to lean in and kiss her then, but instead, hovered his lips near hers for a moment, inviting the possibility of last-second resistance.

Her breath warmed his lips. “You don’t have to,” she said.

Suddenly, he could think of nothing he wanted more. He smiled and said, “I absolutely do.”

And kissed her.

Lia’s lips were initially cold, but the moment they touched his, a shock of warmth flowed through him. The feeling was equally unnatural and exhilarating. It was like she had some kind of instant-acting drug emitted from her lips. She excited him like no other woman he had ever kissed or even touched before. He pulled at her lip and gently let it slip from his. Leaning slightly away, he looked at her.

In the game of first kisses, there is an awkward part that happens when you aren’t sure if the kiss-ee was really into it the way you were. Did she feel marginal about it, and would be satisfied with a one-and-done? Or was she all-in and wanted more? Brandt wanted more. He was almost willing to risk ignoring the protocol and just dive in anyway. But he needed to know if her desire to kiss him was only a temporary impulse, and now the urge was satisfied and over, or did she want to tear into him like he was Wonka’s chocolate and she was Augustus Gloop? Her emotions had been mercurial and he wasn’t sure what to expect from her.

Her eyes were closed as he tried to meet them. She tilted her head back and inhaled silently (a good sign). Though her body was still quivering, she wasn't making any motions to pull away. Her brows twitched nervously like something was brewing in her head. She tensed and squinted, her mouth trembling.

Brandt was fidgeting. He better understood now Lia’s anxiety when she had