Sarah stepped forward and offered her hand to Jenna. “While they bicker, let me introduce myself. I’m Sarah Bingham.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I meant Sarah Warbrook. I think this is the first time I’ve introduced myself since we married.”
Jenna grinned. “I remember how weird it was. That’s why I eventually went back to my maiden name. I just never got used to it.”
“I guess it’s going to take me a while, too. The big, gorgeous brooding guy is my husband Roland.”
“Nice to meet you both. I’m Jenna McBride.”
Roland turned a speculative gaze on Jenna. “Did you say McBride?”
“Yes.”
“Originally from Virginia?”
“Yes.”
“Are you by any chance related to Brian Tiernan McBride?”
“My paternal grandfather’s name was Brian McBride, but I don’t remember his middle name.”
Roland studied her a long moment. “I’ll do it.”
Richart gaped. “You will?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “She’s my descendent.”
Sarah’s eyes widened as she turned to gaze up at him. “Sweetie! That’s wonderful!”
Richart stared at him. “Jenna is related to you?”
Jenna started to smile, then noticed the no-doubt horrified expression overtaking Richart’s face. “Is that not a good thing?” she asked hesitantly.
All Richart could say was, “Chier.”
“Exactly.” Roland donned an evil smile. “Make her happy or I’ll kick your arse.”
He could do it, too.
“So.” Roland turned to Jenna. “Are we going to do this now or what?”
She swallowed hard. “Now as in right now?”
Shaking off his dismay, Richart cupped Jenna’s face in his hands. “I know you’re probably nervous.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“But I’ll be right here with you the whole time. Once Roland has infused you with his blood, I’ll take you and John to David’s home. He’s one of our elders and a very powerful healer. More powerful even than Roland, so he can help you through the transformation. Two, three days from now, you’ll be healthier than you’ve ever been. You’ll be stronger. Faster. And you’ll be able to kick my ass if I ever piss you off.”
“Cool,” John put in.
Jenna smiled bravely. “All right. Let’s do this.”
Richart lifted her onto the exam table and, cupping a hand behind her neck, gently eased her back.
Roland approached the other side of the table and took her hand, raising her arm until the bend of her elbow hovered beneath his chin.
Richart took Jenna’s free hand and held it to his chest.
Her nervous gaze went to Roland. “I’m not going to want to jump your bones or anything when you bite me, am I?”
Damned if the taciturn immortal didn’t laugh. “No. You may want to jump Richart’s though, so, John, beware.”
John shifted uneasily. “Is this going to get weird? Like kinky weird? Because—”
“No,” Richart assured him. “At most, Jenna will say things she ordinarily wouldn’t say unless she were drunk. You might want to step outside, though, so she won’t feel embarrassed later.”
“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed Jenna’s cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
She smiled. “I love you, too. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be okay.”
As soon as John left, Roland bent his head and sank his fangs into Jenna’s arm.
Jenna panted as she slumped back against the pillows. “Immortal sex is the best sex ever,” she proclaimed breathlessly.
Settling beside her, Richart grinned. “Like it, do you?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I could do this all day.”
“We have been doing it all day. The sun is setting.”
She glanced at the clock with surprise. “It is?”
A week had passed since her transformation, which had been pretty miserable. Fortunately, she remembered very little of it beyond Richart’s being there for her through it all.
“We’d better get ready.” There was no disguising her reluctance. They had spent one week of pure ecstasy together. No work for her since she quit her job. No hunting for Richart, Seth having given him a few days off to help Jenna adapt to the changes. No stress or strife. Just hours spent in bed or out of bed, making love and talking and learning even more about each other than they had already known.
She hated to see it end, but John had invited his study group over to the apartment tonight and Jenna intended to capture the vampire who had infected her.
Her stomach gave a nervous flutter.
She had never physically fought anyone before . . . aside from the night Richart had rescued her from the vampires, but she didn’t remember that.
Richart seemed confident that, even with no combat training, she could easily subdue the vampire if he did as hoped and snuck into her bedroom to feed from her once more. She wouldn’t have even begun to believe such was possible if she hadn’t grown more bold than she had ever been in bed last night and overpowered Richart, holding him down and . . .
“You’re blushing,” Richart drawled with amusement. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’ve never been so . . . aggressive before,” she admitted.
“Lucky me.” He stole a quick kiss.
“You really don’t mind?”
He laughed. “Are you kidding? Just thinking about it makes me hard again.”
Smiling, she sat up and faced him. “But . . . you don’t mind that I’m stronger than you now?” He had been right. She didn’t know if it was because Roland was several hundred years older than Richart or because he was a healer, but his transforming her had left her stronger and faster than Richart.
He sat up beside her and stroked her hair. “No, I want you to be safe. The stronger and faster you are, the better. Your being able to overpower me would only trouble me if you made me do something I didn’t want to do.” He leaned in close and rubbed noses with her. “And everything you did to me, everything you made me do last night, I thoroughly enjoyed.”
She pressed her lips to his. “I love you.”
“And I adore you. Now let’s go kick some vampire ass.”
The biggest impediment they ran into that night ended up being John.
“I appreciate your anger,” Richart told him for the dozenth time, “but you must behave as though you know nothing of the vampire’s nefarious deeds.”
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t just invite the ones I suspect and kick their asses until one confessed.”
Richart sighed. John had narrowed it down to two men he thought were the likeliest candidates, but really it could be any of them. “John, just do as we’ve asked,” he advised. “Behave as you normally would. No scowls or confrontations. And let your mother and me deal with this.”
When John opened his mouth to object . . . again . . . Richart held up a hand. “I know your every instinct tells you to protect your mother, but she can pick you up and toss you through that wall over there with very little effort now.”
John eyed his mother skeptically.
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Want a demonstration?”
He cracked a smile. “No, ma’am.”
She winked.
“I guess it’s a good thing you couldn’t do that back when I was in high school and broke curfew.”
“I would have been seriously tempted.”
At last, John laughed and relaxed a bit. “Okay. I get it. I’ll stay out of it and let things play out the way you want them to.”
Richart clapped him on the back. “Excellent.” He motioned to the hallway. “Shall we, my love?”
The study group arrived. Jenna did her mother thing, asking if they liked their new classes, offering snacks and drinks, then said she was heading for bed.
Good nights trailed down the hallway after her as she entered her bedroom and swung the door until it was almost, but not quite, closed, leaving a little strip of light to illuminate her path to the bed.
Across the room, a shadow among shadows, Richart winked at her as she drew back the covers, climbed in fully clothed, then tugged them up to her neck. Quiet enfolded them, broken only by the mumbling of chemistry mumbo jumbo in the living room.
Richart’s heartbeat slowed until even Jenna had difficulty detecting it. But his scent lingered.
Won’t he smell you? she had asked, thinking it a dead giveaway, but Richart had shaken his head.
John has mentioned you’re seeing someone. He’ll just assume we slept together earlier and my scent lingers on you.
Why that had made her flush, she didn’t know.
Minutes passed. An hour. Finally someone mentioned using the bathroom and strode up the hallway. A click sounded as light brightened the hallway. The bathroom door closed, darkening it once more.
Footsteps, light enough to escape mortal detection, approached. The bedroom door swung open and closed so swiftly she almost missed it. A tall form approached the bed.