G."
* * *
"Lissa, he said only two weeks. That's not forever," Winkler told me as I jerked my rolling bag across airport tarmac. Winkler walked beside me, carrying a second bag as we made our way toward his private jet. I was getting the whole thing to myself this time, except for the pilot and co-pilot. He'd also loaded me up with more clothing, including a warm coat—the weather in North Dakota was still cold and unpredictable.
"Why should you justify yourself to me?" I snapped. I was owned and I knew it.
"Lissa," I held myself stiffly as he pulled me into his arms and held me, kissing the top of my head. "Lissa, don't. Just go." He turned me loose and pointed me toward the jet. I carried my own bags up the steps. They were as light as a feather to my vampire strength. The co-pilot shut the door behind me and we took off shortly after that.
Daryl Harper was there to meet me when the plane landed, and there was snow on the ground so I needed the coat. Not because I was truly cold, but because I would stand out. I shrugged into it. Driving north out of Grand Forks, Daryl turned west onto a gravel road after a while and then traveled another ten or fifteen miles. We were in the middle of nowhere when we stopped, except for the huge log house that stood there. Smoke curled up from the chimney, giving off the smell of a fragrant wood fire inside. Daryl and I hadn't talked much on the trip. I'd considered asking questions about the scenery and the nearby cities before thinking better of it. Why the hell did they need a bodyguard? Were they getting attacked by grizzlies?
"Dad?" Daryl called, the minute we stepped inside the house. At least it was warm inside and well insulated.
Weldon Harper came out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hands. "Here's the little vampire, now," he said. I wanted to tell him that not long ago I'd been human and hadn't believed vampires existed. Now I was getting the second-class citizen treatment.
"Yes. Your vampire is here. At your service, and all that. Last time I cooked for you. What do you want now?"
"Gets right to the point," Weldon nodded at me. "We're having a meeting of sorts in a couple of days. There'll be lots of people here, setting up tents and the like right outside. You and Daryl will be going out with me. You only at night, of course, just to be an extra set of eyes and ears and to help out if somebody decides they want a piece of me."
"You think that might be an issue?" I asked. "They're your guests."
"Yes. They are, aren't they?" Weldon smiled at me.
Daryl showed me to a bedroom. The windows had been boarded up and heavy curtains hung over them. At least they'd made preparations for a vampire to sleep there. Daryl also brought in a mini-fridge along with my cooler of blood. I immediately transferred the blood over to the fridge. No sense wasting the stuff—there wasn't a plethora of warm bodies walking around to feed from if it became necessary. The bedroom was a twelve by twelve square with a single bed, a nightstand and a chair plus a small closet off in the corner adjacent to the door. The nearest bathroom was down the hall and I figured we were too far away from civilization to have city water and sewer. It had to be on a well and a septic tank. The bed was covered by a hand-made quilt in creams, browns and yellows, sewn in a fan pattern. A hand-woven Navajo rug covered the wood floor at the side of the bed and there was a deer's head hanging on the wall. Ugh.
I still had some books to read from my last visit to the bookstore. Pulling one out of my suitcase after unpacking everything else, I settled down to read. Weldon and Daryl went to bed around three; I heard them padding down the hall at the time. Nothing disturbed us during the night—I was reading with one ear open and never heard anything other than the wind and perhaps a coyote or two.
Beds don't matter much to me anymore. Not to sleep in, anyway. Dawn comes and I'm unconscious, it's as simple as that. No way to tell then if the mattress is lumpy or if the pillow's too thin. There wasn't a lock on my bedroom door, either. Nothing to keep anybody from walking right in and shoving a stake through my heart, or to stop them from carrying me out to the bright sunlight and dumping me in the yard just to watch me burn. Yeah, I'm full of cheerful thoughts, nowadays.
"Look who's up." Weldon sounded almost happy as I came out of my bedroom for the first time in sixteen hours.
"You're not one of those triple-P persons, are you?" I frowned at him.
"Triple-P?"
"Perpetually Perky People. They make me want to tear my hair out. I've worked with five during my lifetime. I'm pretty sure they ought to pass a law against them or something."
Weldon grinned. "I'd ask if you wanted coffee, but I know better," he said.
"Good. I'm going out for a bit," I said, pulling on my coat.
"It's snowing a little," Daryl was shoving a huge log into the fireplace. Actually, I was wondering if I'd freeze if I turned to mist while the temperature was freezing. Maybe I'd give it a try. I'd thaw in the spring, just in time to get fried by spring sunshine.
"I'm still going out. Need any trees uprooted or anything?"
"She's funny," Weldon said, pointing at me with his coffee cup.
Fat flakes of snow were falling when I stepped outside the door and it was cold, no doubt about that. I heard water running off in the distance and I figured there was a river nearby. I took off in that direction. The banks of the Red River (not to be confused with the Red River that separates Texas and Oklahoma, this was the Red River North) had some ice around the edges, but the middle was a strong flowing current when I found it. That's where I concentrated on turning to mist. I didn't freeze. Who knew? I floated over the tops of trees, saw the log home off in the distance and then the river, winding its way toward Canada. The night was still and cold while snowflakes continued to fall around me. Honestly, if there'd been a good supply of blood nearby, I might have considered settling there, it was so peaceful. Far off to the south, I could see the lights of Grand Forks. I didn't turn back to myself until I was around a hundred yards from the cabin, kicking the snow off my shoes before going inside. I'd only been gone about an hour or so.
"I don't suppose you'd consider making cookies or a pie or something?" Daryl looked a bit wistful.
"What do you have to cook with?" I asked. He'd get cookies if he had the right ingredients. He hadn't done anything (yet) to piss me off.
Daryl led me into the kitchen. At least it looked like it belonged in the twentieth century. Maybe not the twenty-first, but we were in the middle of nowhere. I found sugar, both white and brown, butter and flour. Somebody knew how to shop for groceries, here. Winkler? I think he'd have problems recognizing a loaf of bread.