20
Eventually, it will be time for your childe to leave the nest. You may find that you are lonely, that you miss taking care of someone. Please resist the temptation to turn another vampire immediately. You need some time to rest.
—Siring for the Stupid:
A Beginner’s Guide to Raising Newborn Vampires
Considering our travel history, we handled the honeymoon pretty well. There was only one blow-up, and it was centered on who set up the wake-up calls for A.M. instead of P.M. We toured the villages of England. Walking along the roads at night, visiting the carefully preserved manors, you could almost imagine that time had stopped. You could see horses and carriages ambling down the lanes, imagine ladies in bonnets and gentlemen in beaver hats. I felt a connection to my favorite books that I hadn’t imagined possible, just by seeing the places where they were set.
Oh, and did I mention the constant sex?
Somehow postwedding sex seemed completely new. Not to mention the fact that there were no nosy teenagers within a mile radius. We could be as loud as we wanted. We were tossed out of three hotels because of complaints from the other guests.
We returned home a week later, exhausted and pleased and burdened with a ridiculous amount of souvenirs and gifts. On the drive home from the airport, Andrea and Dick called to tell us that Jamie was waiting for us at the house. He’d been a perfect angel the whole week, Andrea swore. He’d taken care of Fitz, had run to River Oaks several times to check on the house, and had even been helpful with Ray when he rose, explaining the various perks and pitfalls of being a new vampire. So far, Ray had lived up to his word to be well behaved. He’d discovered that he didn’t like bottled or donor blood but actually preferred to hunt deer and drink from them.
When I thought about it, it made a certain amount of sense.
Ophelia had already visited several times to monitor Ray’s progress. And while she gave him several stern warnings about what happened to new vampires who revived old blood grudges, she was pleased that we’d managed to resolve the situation without bloodshed that she had to clean up.
We pulled onto the road leading to River Oaks. Gabriel smirked at me, threaded his fingers through mine. “We could turn around, you know. Take another few days. Get thrown out of some hotels in Nashville.”
“You are ridiculously proud of that, Mr. Nightengale,” I said.
“Even Dick’s ridiculously proud of that, Mrs. Nightengale,” he reminded me. I smiled. We’d been calling each other by our married names all week, because it amused Gabriel and had seemed sort of appropriate, considering our Austenian setting.
“Well, as sad as I am to end the honeymoon, I’m glad to be getting home. Believe it or not, I missed Jamie,” I said. “It’s sort of nice, coming home from vacation with gifts for our boy.”
“Well, let’s hope that he didn’t follow the traditional teenage route of hosting a huge party and trashing the house while we were out of town.”
I chewed my lip thoughtfully. “Maybe we should stop here and walk the rest of the way … so he doesn’t hear us pull up.”
“That would be …”
“A fun surprise?” I suggested.
Gabriel considered it. “Agreed.”
We pulled over near the end of the driveway and cut the engine. We each grabbed a suitcase and swiftly made our way up the drive, moving soundlessly over the grass. From the distance, I could see Jamie sitting on the porch swing … and he wasn’t alone.
Ophelia was straddling Jamie’s lap, kissing him passionately as his hands trailed up her bare back. She groaned, grinding her hips down against his as he nibbled along her jawline to her collarbone.
“What in the name of Barnes and Noble do you think you’re doing?” I dropped the suitcase.
Gabriel looked caught between confusion and horror and the urgent need to giggle hysterically.
Jamie scrambled to his feet and pulled his jeans up. Ophelia rolled her eyes and slipped back into her dress.
“Jane! I’m sorry!” Jamie cried.
“You are … grounded!” I yelled. “And responsible for cleaning that seat cushion.”
Gabriel pressed his fingertips into his eyes, as if he could push the images out of his brain. “Jamie, what’s going on here?”
Jamie looked sheepish, standing in front of Ophelia while she finished dressing. “Well, uh, see, Ophelia explained a couple of things to me. And, uh, we’ve been seeing each other while you were out of town. And yeah, I was wondering, Jane, whether you would be OK if I moved out?”
My eyes narrowed at Ophelia. She had the good sense to look a little uncomfortable.
“And where were you thinking of going, Jamie?”
Ophelia cleared her throat. “Jamie, darling, maybe this isn’t the best time,” she said.
“Phelia,” Jamie prompted, his voice stern. I raised my eyebrows. “We talked about this. You’ll feel better once it’s out. And you owe it to Jane.”
“I was the one who was responsible for your turning Jamie,” Ophelia mumbled. “Indirectly.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
She looked down at her twisting hands and mumbled. “I know who hit him with the car.”
All of the blood seemed to rush through my ears, creating a tornado of sound. For a moment, I actually saw red. The edges of my vision were tinged a violent crimson, creating a tunnel that focused on Ophelia’s face.
“Explain,” I growled.
Ophelia nibbled on her bottom lip. “I wanted him with me. I’ve tried having human lovers before, and ever since the social mores regarding age difference changed, it just hasn’t worked out. They age. I stay looking like a mall rat. And they eventually get questioned by the police. It’s uncomfortable for everyone. I saw Jamie at the quilt festival this spring, and I just fell for him. I watched him for weeks. I watched how he behaved around other kids, how he treated girls. I knew he was just the right mate for me. He’s sweet and kind but strong and resilient. He has leadership abilities that will mature as he grows older. And he’s smart enough to let me have my way on occasion, but he will eventually be able to stand up to me.”
Jamie frowned. “Eventually?”
“I couldn’t turn him myself,” Ophelia admitted. “Because of Georgie. I’m banned for centuries. But it didn’t stop me from following him and talking about him constantly at home—his sports teams, his favorite restaurant, his route at work. Which was a mistake, because Georgie wanted to meet this boy I found so fascinating. She just wouldn’t let it go. She asked over and over, and she couldn’t believe I was actually saying no to her. I hardly ever say no to her, which is I why I think she took it personally enough to wait until I was at the Council office, steal the keys to the car I was using to follow Jamie, sneak out of the house, and drive around looking for him.”
“Are you saying …”
“My little sister ran Jamie down with the car because she overestimated her ability to see over the steering wheel,” Ophelia said, biting her lip.
My jaw went slack. It was really difficult to figure out whom to be angry with. It felt wrong to be angry at Georgie, since she was basically a child, but she was about three hundred years older than I was, and she should have known better. Then there was Ophelia, who should have at least hired some sort of supernatural nanny to keep her sister from these dangerous hijinks.
“But it all worked out, you see, because I got to meet Jamie, and we’re in love, and we get to stay together forever,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. “And Georgie’s mistake—that’s part of the reason I insisted that he foster with you. I felt responsible for what happened to him, and I knew you would treat him well. I needed someone who was a good person, who would teach him to be a good, responsible vampire but was too old for him to find attractive—”
“Hey!” I barked. “What if Jamie didn’t want to be turned? Did you think about that?”
“Well, since you turned him, he’d be angry with you, not me. So that worked out, too. It’s sort of perfect, don’t you think?” She turned to me, grinning smugly. “You know, you’re taking this a lot better than I expected you to.”
I slammed my fist into the bridge of Ophelia’s nose. My hand actually smarted from the blow. She went flying over the porch rail and ass-over-teakettle into the rosebushes.
“I had that coming,” Ophelia admitted. “That was your one free shot.”
“Oh, hell, no, Missy, you must be losing your mind if you think that’s the last of it. There will be multiple shots. I’m going to give you a twenty-one-damn-gun salute. If you’re going to be dating my boy, there are going to be rules and family dinners on Sundays. Every holiday will be celebrated at my house. You can start your own traditions when I’m dead. And there will be lots and lots of digs about how you’re not good enough for him.”
“I think a cold chill just dislodged a disc in my spine,” Gabriel muttered, shivering.
“Sort of makes you rethink that whole eternity-together thing, huh?” Jamie said, lifting Ophelia from the ground.
“You don’t know what you’ve brought down on yourself, Cookie.” I pointed my finger in her face and then turned on Jamie. “And how do you feel about all this?”
“Well, at first, I was wicked pissed,” he said, glaring down at her without any real heat. She actually looked contrite, but it passed quickly. “But the bad part’s over, right? What’s done is done. And Georgie’s apologized. She feels just terrible about it. Besides, it was kind of cool to hear Ophelia tell me about the whole stalking-me thing. I’ve never had a girl go to quite those lengths to get my attention.”
“Yes, she’s a regular bunny boiler.”
“Are the nicknames going to stop soon?” Ophelia asked.
“No, condescending nicknames that imply that I can’t remember your real name are all part of the bitchy in-law package,” I told her. “And no, Jamie, for right now, I don’t think you should move out. I’d be more comfortable if you stayed with me. It’s not right for you two to live together right now.”
Jamie shouted, “What? You lived with Gabriel before you were married!”
“This has nothing to do with marital status,” I said calmly. “This has to do with your emotional maturity. And the fact that she was indirectly responsible for you being run down with a car, which implies a certain disregard for personal safety. I’m going to have to insist that you stay with me for at least another year or until you can give me a well-thought-out plan on your living arrangements, including how you plan to integrate Georgie into your life together.”
“Can she do that?” Jamie demanded.
Ophelia nodded hesitantly. “It’s within her rights as your sire,” she said, her tone quickly becoming acidic. “Though she should realize that Georgie is none of her business, and she would be wise to leave my sister out of future arguments about our relationship. Driving incidents aside, I have never neglected my sister, and I won’t start now.”
“Good, you can bring her to Christmas dinner. We’ll take a big family photo involving ugly holiday sweaters.”
“Augh!” Jamie groaned. “That is so lame!”
“Well, that’s me, Jane, Queen of Lame. And I’m only putting you through this embarrassment and hardship because I love you.”
There was genuine delight in his smile when he heard this. He hugged me, and I felt the depth of his gratitude and affection like a humming melody from his brain. His face shifted into an expression of crafty nonchalance. “Do you love me enough to let me borrow your truck to take Ophelia to the drive-in?”
I tsked, kissed his cheek, and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Not on your life.”
“Again with the lame.” His face fell. “Come on, Phelia, let’s go upstairs.”
“Keep the door open!” I called as they ascended the steps. Gabriel winced as Jamie slammed his bedroom door shut. “Maybe we should have stayed in England.”
I shot him an amused look, wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Nah, it’s good to be home.”