Runaway Vampire(104)
Mary tipped her head up to Dante and grinned. “You heard the man. Kiss me.”
Dante chuckled softly and then lowered his head to do just that. But it was no, hi-I’m-happy-to-see-you buss, it was a full on, God-I-am-SO-happy-to-see-you-and-just-wish-you-were-naked-and-spread-eagled-on-the-floor smackeroo.
“Lord save me from new life mates,” Lucian muttered with disgust and then cursed as Weird Al Yankovich’s “Tacky” began to play somewhere nearby. For some reason that made Dante laugh, Mary noted, as he broke their kiss. She peered at him with bewilderment for a moment, and then realizing that Lucian was moving away, called, “Lucian?”
Pausing, he swung back, a phone in his hand.
“What?” he asked tersely as “Tacky” continued to play.
“The man you want in Venezuela is Dr. Dressler,” she announced, her response just as terse.
Dante went still beside her. “What?”
Mary turned back to him and grimaced apologetically. “I overheard someone mention the name Dresden while I was . . .” She hesitated, not really wanting to explain what she’d done right there in the shopping mall, then shook her head and said, “It doesn’t matter. The point is hearing the name Dresden made me remember the name Dressler.”
She wasn’t surprised at their blank expressions and explained, “In the van, the men were talking about how pleased Dr. Dressler was going to be to have a new turn to experiment on.” Mary turned back to Lucian to add, “So I’m guessing that this Dressler is who you should be looking for in Venezuela.”
Lucian’s mouth tightened. Punching numbers in his phone, he turned away, snapping, “Let’s go.”
“Rude man,” Mary muttered, glowering after him.
“I love you.”
Mary swung back to stare at Dante.
“What?” she asked weakly.
“I love you,” he repeated, and then rushed on, “Mary, I know you will think it is too soon for me to say that, but it really is not. You are beautiful, and I do not mean in looks, although you are beautiful in that way too,” Dante added quickly. “But the beauty I speak of is in here.” He covered the general vicinity of her heart with his hand. “You have so much heart and you are so brave and strong and you do not take shit from anyone. You are my perfect woman, and I love you.”
Mary opened her mouth to tell him that she loved him too, and blurted, “I went to see my daughter.”
Dante raised his eyebrows, cleared his throat, and said, “I see.”
Mary grimaced, knowing those weren’t the words he wanted to hear, but she went on. “The bank where she works is very close by and when I realized that . . . I just had to see her,” she said apologetically. “I wanted to tell her everything and I almost did, but . . .”
“But?” he queried quietly.
“But then her memory would be wiped and I can’t turn her anyway, so I didn’t.”
Dante nodded, and then rested his forehead on hers and said, “When I saw you were alive and well, I knew you must not have said anything to your daughter, but thank you for telling me.”
Mary pulled back to frown at him. “You knew?”
“I suspected,” he corrected. “After Lucian disappeared and Francis mentioned that two of the new hunters had followed us into town and he’d seen them loitering outside the store . . .” His mouth tightened. “I recalled reading in one of the reports that your daughter worked at a bank near here and immediately rushed back to the store to find you, but—”
“There are reports on me?” Mary squawked, interrupting him.
“Yes,” he admitted, but simply continued, “And when I got to the store and you were gone, I feared you had slipped away to see your daughter and that Lucian had followed. I was calling Mortimer to ask him for the name of the bank when I spotted you and Lucian entering the mall.”
Hands tightening reflexively, he said, “I am sorry you could not say anything to your daughter, Mary. And I am sorry you have lost everything because of me.”
“I haven’t lost everything,” Mary said quickly trying to ease his obvious guilt. She then grimaced, and said, “Well, okay, I’ve lost a lot, but it’s not your fault, and I have gained a lot too.”
“Still—” he began unhappily.
“Dante,” she interrupted softly. “I was in my twilight years. I maybe would have lived another couple decades as a mortal, and that would have been probably in some one-bedroom apartment with my kids and grandkids too far away or just too busy to visit. I would have been the lonely old cat lady, who sat around watching jeopardy. Only with a dog,” she added wryly, then smiled and said, “Now, I have a whole new life. I’m healthy and strong.” She shook her head. “The strength is amazing. Every year that I aged I seemed to lose more strength and there were more tasks I couldn’t perform. Now there is nothing I am not strong enough to do.” Mary smiled. “You gave me my life back, Dante, and you have given me your love. You’ve given me everything,” she said solemnly, and then smiled crookedly and said, “Besides, I can keep track of the kids and grandkids. They’re all big on Facebook and that Twitter business. I’ll be able to follow their lives. I’ll just miss the yearly visits,” she added wryly.