The Lady Is a Vamp(12)

Paul relaxed slowly, and nodded, apparently finding that a sensible explanation. Smiling wryly, he said, “I’ll feed her ham and cheese sandwiches for every meal if it means she’ll eat. She’s lost so much weight so fast.”

Jeanne Louise remained silent, but wished she could ease some of his concerns. The man had worry lines making grooves in his face and she suspected they probably hadn’t been there before Livy got sick. She could ease that worry by suggesting she turn him, and he turn Livy, but then she’d risk spending the rest of her long life alone if he wasn’t willing to be her life mate. It might seem selfish to a mortal for her to put her need for a life mate ahead of a child’s life, but they were taught from birth to keep a certain emotional distance between themselves and mortals. Each of them would encounter hundreds of mortals they may like, care about, or even love to a degree, but they simply couldn’t save them all. They could turn only one and the idea of having to spend centuries or even millennia alone . . . well, it was untenable.

Despite that, Jeanne Louise was tempted to make the offer anyway, but she forced it down and instead asked, “Is there nothing they can give her for the pain?”

Paul shook his head and ran one hand wearily around his neck. “They’ve given her the strongest dose they dare for her age and size, but it doesn’t seem to do anything anymore. The next step is to keep her sedated in the hospital, but . . .”

But he didn’t want her warehoused while she died. He wanted to save her, Jeanne Louise finished in her head when he fell silent.

“I guess I should take you back in. I don’t want to leave her alone in case she wakes up,” Paul said abruptly.

Jeanne Louise nodded and began to pack away the remains of their picnic, her gaze skittering to him when he knelt to help. Once everything was back in the basket and the blanket they’d sat on, as well as the one that had covered her legs, was folded, she stood and waited silently as he quickly unlocked her shackles from the gazebo post. She carried the blankets and he the basket and the end of her chains as they started to walk, and Jeanne Louise couldn’t help feeling like a trained dog as they headed for the house. It stirred a slow anger in her, but she forced herself to take several deep breaths, and pushed the anger back down.

This situation was a difficult one, but getting angry wouldn’t help at this point. It was another kind of passion she needed now.

“Don’t you think you should keep me a little closer to Livy?” Jeanne Louise asked when they entered the house and he turned toward the door to the basement. When he paused to glance at her with a frown, she added, “If she wakes up in pain, I can help her.”

Paul hesitated, uncertainty plucking at his brow and Jeanne Louise sighed with irritation. He was worrying about her escaping, of course. And until he learned to trust that she wouldn’t, he would continue to think of her as a captive. She needed him to think of her as an ally if she was to woo him.

“I don’t think—” he began regretfully.

“What if I promise not to try to leave the house?” she interrupted.

Paul looked torn. He obviously wanted to believe her, but in the end, just couldn’t, and started to shake his head, his mouth opening to speak. However, he never spoke the refusal she expected. Jeanne Louise didn’t let him. The moment his mouth opened, she dropped the blankets, caught the chain and tugged it from his hold with one hand. In the same moment, she snatched the tranquilizer gun from his back pocket with the other. She didn’t even think about what she was doing then, but dropped the chain she’d pulled from him and used both hands to snap the barrel off the end of the tranquilizer gun with a satisfying snap.

Jeanne Louise let the two pieces drop to the floor and then stepped back from Paul, giving him space. She had no desire to scare him or make him feel threatened.

“Jesus, I knew you guys were faster, but . . . damn, you moved so fast you were a blur,” Paul said with amazement.

Her voice calm, Jeanne Louise said, “I could have done that at any point over the last couple of hours. The only reason I’m still here now is because I choose to be.”

“Jesus,” Paul repeated, and then eyed her warily as he took a deep breath. Letting it out, he asked, “Then why are you still here?”

Jeanne Louise hesitated unsure how to answer that. The truth wouldn’t do at all. He wasn’t ready to hear that he might be her life mate, and she wasn’t ready to tell him. First, she needed to be sure he was. And then she needed to see if he was willing to be that life mate, if he could see her as more than a possible way to save his daughter. Jeanne Louise, like every other immortal, had only one turn to use, and while her heart ached for Livy and she sympathized with Paul, she couldn’t save every mortal who was terminally ill. She wouldn’t give up her turn to just anyone, but had to use it wisely.

Aware that he was waiting for an answer, she finally shrugged and offered an evasive, “Consider it a test.”

“A test,” he muttered with a frown.

Jeanne Louise nodded.

“What kind of test?” he asked warily.

She bit her lip, but simply said, “You have your secrets and I have mine. Neither of us is ready to reveal them yet. In the meantime, I’m willing to help alleviate Livy’s pain so that she can eat and rest and rebuild her strength. I presume you’d like that?”

Paul’s eyes widened, but he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Good. Then can you please remove the shackles from my ankle? They’re beginning to chafe.”

“Oh.” Paul glanced around and then shook his head and reached in his pocket for the key as he knelt by her leg. He shifted her pant legs up and Jeanne Louise bent to hold them out of the way for him as he quickly undid both shackles and removed them.

“Thank you,” she murmured, releasing her pant legs and letting them fall back into place as she straightened.

“My pleasure,” he said wryly, gathering the chain and shackles and moving to set them on the kitchen table. He hesitated and then glanced toward the refrigerator. “Would you like some blood now?”

“Yes, please,” Jeanne Louise responded, her lips twitching at how polite and stiff they both sounded. Good Lord. Nothing was ever easy, was it?

Nodding, Paul moved to the refrigerator and retrieved a jar of the dark crimson liquid.