Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Twenty-Four: The M-Word

This was the first night I spent entirely with Evander, and it was both wonderful and a little sad, seeing the way he loved his son who looked as if he could be Evander's great grandfather. We sat on comfortable couches, and I let them do all the talking, as I absorbed just the smallest fraction of their long family history. 

There was so much between them.

They talked fondly and without grief of Tavish's two children, Elijah and Jennie, who had not been gifted with his longevity and had died half his lifetime ago. They spoke of several wars and the family losses. They spoke of Tavish's foray in the West after his children died, where he spent years living with a Lakota tribe.

"None of these vampires can ride a horse as I can," he boasted.

Evander shook his head and said, "But only because the horses are terrified of the Blood Cursed."

Tavish made a sound of disbelief, "That was always your excuse, Old Man, but you've known how to enthrall your mount for nearly a century."

Evander smiled at him with such fondness, it made my heart ache. "Fine, I'll admit you ride better than I did in my human life—"

"Oh-ho, finally!" Tavish crowed. "Did you hear that, Celie? You're my witness."

I grinned sipping my wine. "I'll remember the date and remind him frequently."

"Well no, it's not so much that he rides better than me now," Evander amended stretching out his long legs and casually putting an arm behind me on the sofa, "it's more that he handles his weapons on horseback better. The way you can hit a three-inch target at full gallop with arrow or bullet? I can't do that."

"Och, it's only because vampires have no need of bows and arrows nor guns," Tavish assured me. "They like their fighting close. Once they get their hands on their enemy, it's all over."

It was fascinating, how bluntly they spoke of the family curse. Equally interesting how Tavish didn't seem to begrudge his father, uncle, cousin, grandson and beloved family servant their immortality. I wondered if it was his choice not to become a vampire.

The conversation moved on easily to the building of the resort, and I put down my empty wine glass and listened with rapt attention, but somewhere in the hour before dawn, I must have dozed off against Evander's shoulder. I woke being transported to the only bedroom in Evander's arms, and I automatically began protesting putting Tavish out of his bed.

Evander dismissed me with, "Och, that sofa is five times more comfortable than any bed Tavish had for the first hundred-fifty years of his life. He does not mind I bit, I assure you, lass."

He deposited me tenderly, but I was fully awake again. I sat up, stretching and yawning at the same time I kept hold of him. "What about you?"

We both stared at the space beside me. Eventually, I met his eyes with invitation. "Will you torpor here while I sleep beside you?"

He inclined his head, then gave one shake. "I won't take the risk. Not unless and until you truly feel a part of me. Right now, we are still too unfamiliar, my reaction at being startled awake might be too rapid, and you are far too fragile," he touched my cheek. "And precious to me."

To be called fragile and precious would feel like a condescension from a man in my own time. But when Evander said it, I felt heat rise to my skin, because it was true, and I liked him telling me so.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said.

He chuckled conspiratorially as he leaned in, bumping his shoulder to mine, kissing me on the forehead. "Liar. And it's good that you are a little bit afraid. You'd be one daft witch not to be wary of a vampire who wants your body, blood, and soul. But I shall make you sure of me by making sure to keep you safe."