Michele Bardsley · 321 pages
Rating: (8.7K votes)
“Patrick: Is fear rith maith nά drochseasamh.
Jessica:And that means what?
Patrick: A good run is better than a bad stand.
Jessica: Oh. And that means what?
Patrick: It means, Jessica, that life is about choices. Sometimes you fight, sometimes you flee, but you never surrender.”
“Why are you naked?" "The better to feed you, m'dear." He pointed between his legs and my gaze roved along his cock. Then I saw his forefinger tapping his inner thigh. "Femoral artery." "Riiight. And the major vein in your neck wasn't good enough because… ?" One black brow winged up and those delicious lips curved into a naughty smile. "Ah. Because then I wouldn't have had an excuse to get naked.”
“Did you hear about the recently discovered temple in the Sudan ?"
I stared at him. "Yeah. I'm a regular reader of National Geographic."
Ol' Frankie's brows quirked. "You wield sarcasm, madam, as well as a master swordsman does."
"Gee, thanks." I smiled at him and batted my lashes.
Quit flirting . Patrick flicked the command into my head. He sounded half-annoyed, half-amused.
I'm not flirting.
Quit being cute and likeable.
An impossible request. I've always been too adorable for words.”
“His gaze meandered along my chest. "Hey!" I crossed my arms over my breasts.
"Those are…"
"Patrick's?"
"Well, his name isn't tattooed on them, but yeah, currently they are reserved for him."
I peered at him and noted the similarities between him and his sons. "Ruadan, I presume?"
"Got it in one," he said, silver eyes twinkling.
"You scared the shit out of me." One corner of his mouth lifted into a grin. He picked up the parchment and tapped on it.
"So, you're Patrick's soul mate."
"No."
"But you read the scroll. Only his sonuachar can do that."
"Let me explain." I paused. "No, there is too much. Let me sum up."
" The Princess Bride!" Ruadan exclaimed in happy surprise. "I love that movie. 'Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!'" He leapt off the bed and made fencing motions.
"Ruadan, we're in a bit of crisis around here."
"Hey! My swords." He practically skipped to the dresser where I had left them when I got ready for my bath. He whirled the half-swords like a master swordsman, which, of course, he was. "My mother really knows how to smith a weapon, doesn't she? Real fairy gold." He stabbed an invisible foe's chest with one and his stomach with the other. "Die, evil one! Die!"
He jumped up and down, the swords held above his head, and did a victory dance.
"You're like a big puppy!" I exclaimed. "A big, dumb puppy.”
“Hmph," said Sharon . "Did you know that the numbers three and seven are sacred to vampires? There are seven vampire sects."
"Seven sacred sects," I repeated. "Say that three times fast."
"How about I spank you instead?" asked Patrick in a benign tone that belied the flare of irritation in his gaze.
"Only if you tie me to a bed and use a paddle."
His silver eyes went molten. Uh-oh. Me and my big smart-aleck mouth.
"I… uh, sorry. I didn't mean that. I saw Secretary a few too many times. I'm impressionable.”
“Terrific! Have you done Step Three?" He waggled his brows as he opened up the top left drawer of my dresser.
"No. Hey! Do you mind, Nosy Newton?"
"Are these panties?" he asked, holding up two of my thongs. "Because they look like dental floss to me."
Oh my God. My almost father-in-law was digging around in my lingerie. Embarrassment bloomed in my face. "Ruadan, get out of my underwear!"
"Fine," he said, closing the left drawer and opening the right one. "Oh! Lookie here!"
"If you touch that box," I said menacingly, "I will cut off your head with your own swords. And I'm not talking about the one on your shoulders."
He laughed, shutting the drawer. "You won't need a vibrator anymore. You've got Patrick." His gaze slid toward the dresser. "Unless you have different toys in there. Nipple clamps?"
"I… what… oh God." I fell onto the bed, curled into the fetal position, and covered my face.”
“Damnú air."
"You're cussing!"
"I refuse to admit to uttering bad words in any language." Patrick grinned and his teeth flashed white. "Jenny has been Googling German insults. I don't want her to look up Gaelic next."
Oh Lord. I tried not to think about what kind of information Jenny discovered in her search. "You let her Google curse words?"
"She said it was for educational purposes."
"Yeah, right. You are so fired as the baby-sitter.”
“Anyway, Patrick bought me a tiara. He also bought me a pony. My mommy wasn't happy about the pony, even though we have lots of space in the backyard of our new house. I have a new grandpa, too. We call him Ru because it's easier to say than his real name. He promised to take us toParis on Christmas break. He also bought me a tiara. My uncle Lor spends a lot of time in the library bus. He tells me all the time why it's important to write stuff down. So I am. He also bought me a tiara, and Mommy said, "Enough already." (So I didn't tell her that Drake and Darrius gave me one, too.)”
“Jessica?"
"Oh, uh… sorry, François. I had to go to the bathroom."
"What? Why?"
Crud. Vampires didn't have to potty. "To get my… lotion. I have dry hands.”
“It doesn't seem real," said Linda. "None of this. It's like we're all dreaming or something. Or maybe we really are dead."
"Nah," said Patsy, fluffing her bleach-blond curls. "If this was heaven there'd be more naked men.”
“Why are you naked?"
"The better to feed you, m'dear." Then I saw his forefinger tapping his inner thigh. "Femoral artery."
"Riiight. And the major vein in your neck wasn't good enough because… ?"
One black brow winged up and those delicious lips curved into a naughty smile.
"Ah. Because then I wouldn't have had an excuse to get naked."
"Or get chained to a wall."
"Hmmm.”
“Let's go over it again, shall we?"
"We will not shape-shift in front of your children unless it's an emergency," said Drake.
"And if it is an emergency, we will try to find a place to hide, or, if that isn't possible, we will change so that they see our backsides," added Darrius.
I stared at Drake. He rolled his eyes. "I did not 'flop around' in front of Jenny. I was behind the couch and she was on the stairs. She saw only my head." He pointed at his skull. "This one! On mein shoulders!"
"I know." I waved at them. "Continue."
"We will keep shorts or jeans stashed in many locations so that when we shift back into human form, we'll be able to cover our woobies," said Darrius.
"Excellent." I looked at Drake and smiled benignly. "How's your rear end?"
"Sore," he groused. "Not even Brigid would heal the scratches from that damned cat.”
“She's just nervous, Paddy. Don't worry, hon," saidSharon , her lips pulled into a generous smile. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and sincerity. "I'm used to these neck nibblers."
"No offense,Sharon . But I'd rather have the chocolate," I said.
She laughed and slapped her thigh. "Hell's bells, Patrick! She's the reason you've had me eating these Godiva truffles all day?"
I looked at Patrick. "You're mean." His black brows formed question marks. Then his lips curled into a smile. "No, not just mean. Cruel."
"I had her eat truffles for you," he said.
"Are you insane? How is her eating my chocolate in any way helpful?"
Sharon chortled. "You might not be able to eat the truffle, sweetie, but you'll taste it. Prob'ly be the best chocolate you ever eat, too."
I looked at Sharon , then at Patrick. "Are you telling me that she's gonna taste like chocolate?"
"Yes.”
“I call upon the deamhan and the sidhe ," Ruadan prayed. "To heal their son, flesh of their flesh, magic of their magic. So do I will it, so mote it be." I watched in terrified amazement as the whirling lights weaved into a heart. A real heart. The pulsating organ connected to the veins. Then the flesh sealed itself and within seconds, no wound existed at all. I stared at Patrick then looked at Ruadan, mouth gaping.
"Neat, huh?" he said. "I like the sparkling lights the best."
"That's it ?" I asked.
"Yep.”
“People’s beliefs about their abilities have a profound effect on those abilities. Ability is not a fixed property; there is a huge variability in how you perform. People who have a sense of self-efficacy bounce back from failures; they approach things in terms of how to handle them rather than worrying about what can go wrong.”
“The human mind is a story processor, not a logic processor.”
“Never let anyone lower your goals. Others’ expectations of you are determined by their limitations of life. The sky is your limit, sons. Always shoot for the sun and you will shine.”
“Rumors are like pigeons. They fly everywhere and make a mess wherever they go.”
“Is it the sea you hear in me?
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.”
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