“I know it means I can’t be turned, and that we only have three or four decades, but I’ll do what I can to make those the best years of your life,” he promised.
Jeanne Louise closed her eyes. Three or four decades. So little time.
“I want you to promise me something.”
She opened her eyes again. “What?”
“I want you to promise that you will never ever turn me.”
“I can’t now, Paul,” Jeanne Louise whispered, her voice cracking as she made the admission.
“I know. But when Livy fell down those stairs, you didn’t even think. You turned her on the spot to save her. I don’t want you ever to do that with me, to unthinkingly turn me. You would be trading your life for mine, and I won’t have that. I’d kill myself the minute I regained consciousness to save you anyway. So it wouldn’t be worth it.”
Jeanne Louise stared up at him, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes and sliding down into her hair as pain welled up inside her. Throwing her arms around him, she hugged him tightly, whispering, “What am I going to do without you?”
“Jesus woman, I’m not dead yet. Don’t bury me already,” he said huskily, hugging her back. “We have time together. A couple of decades at least, and hopefully four or more. Let’s enjoy them and let the future worry about itself.” He pulled back to peer at her and wipe her tears away, and then asked, “Okay?”
Jeanne Louise nodded.
“Good,” he sighed, and then kissed her to seal the deal.
Jeanne Louise kissed back, and moaned as his hands began to move over her body, his kisses and caresses pushing her worries about the future—and losing him—away for a little while as he made love to her.
“Daddy! Jeanie! Look! I grew new teeth! And look what I can do with them!”
Jeanne Louise blinked her eyes open and stared blankly at Livy as she burst into the room and rushed up to the bed, her fangs sliding out and gliding back into her jaw repeatedly.
“Wow. Well, that’s great, honey,” Paul said weakly beside her.
“Yeah. Justin and Anders taught me how to do it. Justin says I’m the fastest learner ever!” She beamed at the compliment and then whirled away and rushed toward the door yelling, “He said to show you and tell you it’s time to get up. We’re going on a plane!”
“My daughter the vampire,” Paul said on a sigh as Livy disappeared up the hall, leaving the door open.
“She’s a cute vampire though,” Jeanne Louise said with amusement, and then sat up and slid off the bed as she warned him, “You might not want to use the term vampire around the old-timers though. They get kind of touchy about it.”
“And who exactly are old-timers?” Paul asked, getting up and following when she headed into the bathroom.
“Lucian, my father, Eshe, Nicholas, Anders, Aunt Marguerite,” she listed off as she turned on the shower for the water to warm up. Jeanne Louise then turned and bent to look in the cupboard under the sink to find a washcloth and towel. Old-timers were anyone over a century or two old, and there were many more of them, but those were the only ones he’d met so far. “Oh, and Bastien.”
“Right,” he said, dryly. “And how am I supposed to tell who the old-timers are? You all look mid twenties to thirty.”
She smiled wryly and shrugged as she straightened. “Guess it’s best just not to use the ‘V’ word when there are others around.”
“Hmm,” Paul murmured, his eyes sliding over her body. “Speaking of that. How old are you?”
“I’ll be a hundred and three this year,” Jeanne Louise admitted and then stepped in the shower and closed the door. The water was lovely warm and she closed her eyes and turned under it.
“A hundred and three?” Paul squawked, yanking the door open.
Blinking her eyes open, Jeanne Louise peered at him with surprise. “Yes.”
“Jesus,” Paul muttered, leaning weakly against the shower door.
Jeanne Louise hesitated and then asked, “Is that a . . . er . . . problem?”
“What?” He glanced at her, and then frowned. “Well, no—I mean, I—I guess I just thought you were younger,” he finished finally.
Biting her lip, she turned away from him to hide her concerned expression and reached for the shampoo to pour some into her hand. Trying to ignore the sudden awkward silence, she massaged the shampoo through her hair, building a lather.