Runaway Vampire(76)

Francis chuckled at her wide-eyed look. “You are not scandalized.”

It wasn’t a question.

“And you are not disgusted,” Russell said with equal certainty.

Mary blinked at the comment. “Of course not. Why would I be disgusted?”

Russell shrugged mildly. “Some people are.”

Mary clucked with irritation. “Some people need to keep their minds out of your pants then.”

Both men blinked briefly, then burst into laughter that they both quickly quelled when Dante murmured sleepily and turned on his side in bed.

They were silent for a moment, each of them practically holding their breath as they peered at Dante, but when he didn’t stir again, they relaxed and glanced at each other.

“I like that,” Francis said quietly, and then echoed her words slowly as if savoring them. “Some people need to keep their minds out of your pants then.”

“Well, they do,” she said quietly. “Love is love and shouldn’t upset anyone. So what else are they thinking about when they get upset at your partner preferences?” she asked reasonably, and then answered the question herself. “Their minds are in your pants and on what you do. And while they’re welcome to bury their brain in their own pants, they have no business in yours.”

Francis glanced to Russell and grinned. “I like her.”

“Me too,” Russell said with a smile.

Mary blushed and turned to glance at Dante for a minute, but then turned back and asked, “You said Dante hasn’t slept for a while?”

“This is the first time he has slept since the accident,” Russell said solemnly. “He watched over you throughout your turn. We helped of course, but we did take breaks, and we offered to spot him so that he could rest as well, but he refused to leave your side even for a twenty-minute nap.”

Mary turned to peer at Dante again at this news, her eyes traveling slowly over his sweet face in repose. The man must have been exhausted when he’d finally collapsed that first time they had sex, and yet he’d not made a single complaint when she’d woken him up for another go round . . . or for the third one, or the fourth. Mary felt bad about her greediness now. She almost felt like she should apologize to him . . . except she’d have to wake him up to do so.

“There is no need to apologize,” Russell assured her solemnly. “He will be fine.”

Mary turned slowly back to stare at the fair-haired man as another realization struck her. “You’re reading my mind.”

“I am afraid so,” he acknowledged. “I apologize, but it is hard not to.”

“Why? Because you’re so used to reading everyone?” she asked, curious.

“Not quite, although that is a factor too,” Russell allowed.

It was Francis who explained, “Mary, honey, as a new turn and a new life mate, it is difficult not to hear your thoughts. It would be like trying not to hear what someone was shouting in your ear.”

She tilted her head and eyed him uncertainly. “You’re suggesting I’m somehow shouting my thoughts at you?”

“Basically,” Francis said with a shrug, and then leaned forward to pat her hand. “Do not worry. It is common among new turns as well as new life mates, and you are presently both.”

“Right,” she breathed, sitting back in her seat as questions immediately began whirling through her head.

“You wish to know more about this life mate business,” Francis said with a smile.

Mary shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I did,” he admitted with a grin. “I wanted to know absolutely everything when I found out I was Russell’s life mate. And I imagine you do too.”

“Yes, definitely,” Mary admitted sitting forward again and resting her arms on the table as she peered curiously from Francis to Russell. “So you weren’t both born immortal?”

“No. Russell was and turned me,” Francis said, sharing another smile with the man. Turning back, he added, “I was not even gay when we met.”

Mary blinked in surprise at this and he burst out laughing at her expression.

“Sorry, I am just teasing,” he said, patting her hand again. “I was ‘in the closet,’ as they say now, but definitely preferred men to women. It was Russell who had no idea of his sexual preference.”

Her gaze shifted to Russell then to see that he was watching Francis with amused affection. She glanced back to Francis and narrowed her eyes. “You’re teasing me again, right?”

“Not this time,” he said with wry amusement, and then assured her. “He really had no clue. Russell was just wandering through the centuries with a bad haircut and worse fashion sense, waiting for his dream girl to pop up.” He smiled and added, “But what popped up was no girl.”