The Vampire's Assistant

Chapter Seventeen

We were about twenty minutes outside New Orleans when Pam slowed the car and turned down a long gravel driveway. In the darkness, I could barely make out our surroundings, but I could see that the drive was lined with towering willows and oaks. Outside, a symphony of crickets and frogs was the only sound disrupting the silence of the country air.

"Where are we?" I asked curiously.

Pam remained silent, much as she had since she'd picked me up at my parents' house almost an hour ago. She looked pointedly out the right side of the windshield and I followed her gaze in time to see a great white house loom up out of the shadows.

I gasped. The place was beautiful, even in the darkness. Though not big enough to have been a plantation house, it surely dated back to the Civil War, if not earlier. It was a traditional Louisiana farm house, with porches circling both stories. The lights on either side of the front door offered a welcoming glow that flickered in the turning shadows of the porch ceiling fans.

I glanced questioningly at Pam as she got out of the car, but still she said nothing. She led the way up the walk and onto the front porch, where she removed a key ring from her coat pocket and unlocked the front door. The house was even more gorgeous on the inside. There were hardwood floors as far as I could see, and every room was tastefully decorated in the traditional style. It was like walking into a Southern Living magazine.

"What are we doing here, Pam?" I asked as I gaped at my surroundings.

"You need a place to stay," she answered simply, gesturing around us. "Here it is."

I shook my head. "I was just going to get an apartment in the city."

She put her perfectly manicured hands on her hips and planted her foot. "My maker's child is not going to be born in an apartment." She said the word like a disease.

"Pam, I really appreciate the thought and all, but I can't afford this."

She waved a dismissive hand. "It's free to you as long as you need it."

I studied her suspiciously and glanced around again. "Is this Eric's house?"

Pam snorted. "Hell no. This is my house and Eric knows nothing about it. I bought it as a getaway place when Fangtasia, New Orleans was opening. I've yet to have time to use it; someone should."

"This place is amazing, but I can't accept this. I won't live off charity."

She shrugged. "Then pay me rent if you really want to. Come, let me give you the tour."

I followed her begrudgingly as she guided me through the first floor of the house, through the sitting room, dining room, kitchen, and laundry. Upstairs were two small bedrooms, a hall bath, and a huge master bedroom and bath with an adjoining office.

"I thought this would make a good nursery," Pam said, walking into the office. "You can decorate however you want. I'd be happy to help."

I agreed that the room would make a perfect nursery but I was too distracted to think much farther on it. Pam had never been this nice to me, or to anyone else that I could recall, for that matter.

"Why are you doing this?"

She looked genuinely offended. "I gave you my blood," she spat, a bit of the usual Pam attitude rearing its head, "This is nothing compared to that."

I put up my hands in a gesture that said I'd meant no offense. "I get that. I really do. And I appreciate it more than I can express. But you're... You're being really nice and it's kind of creeping me out."

Pam crossed her arms over her chest and stalked over to the tall window. She stared out into the night and it was a long time before she spoke. "For ages it's just been Eric and me," she said finally. "Lovers and friends have come and gone but Eric, he's the only family I've had for centuries. And I was fine with that until you showed up in my office." She turned slightly to look at me over her shoulder. "Your baby is my family, too. I find that I..." She sighed and I could tell her next words were a struggle. "I like the idea more than I would have thought."

I took the house. A week later, I got a call from the Bourbon Street Jazz Company, offering me the opportunity for an interview. With some luck I got the job, though the salary was significantly smaller than I was accustomed to. Still, things were looking up. Thanks to Pam's weekly blood donations, I felt better than ever. The only dark cloud in my sky was Eric's absence, though I staunchly refused to acknowledge it.

Most of the time, it was easy to avoid the thoughts of him. I kept myself busy with work and preparing for the baby. But there were moments as my belly grew and my body changed, adapting itself to its newly emerging vampiric traits, that I felt hollow inside without Eric to share it with.

The first time I felt the baby move, it was simultaneously joyous and painful. Pam's presence had been a blessing. She practically flew to my side, pressing her hands to my belly. I could live forever and never forget the look of sheer wonder and happiness on her face. I hadn't thought Pam even capable of those emotions before that day.

If someone had told me a year ago that Pam would soon be my closest friend and ally, I would have seriously considered committing them. But sure enough, Pam was my faithful companion throughout the long months of my pregnancy. Though I only needed her blood once or twice a week, she visited me at least three or four. She brought me healthy foods, took me shopping for maternity clothes, helped me paint the nursery.

It was on that night, as we stood in the nursery in old t-shirts and overalls, paint rollers in hand, that Pam broached the topic of her maker again. She'd been surprisingly quiet on the issue for months but I knew better than to think she'd stay that way. Still, I wasn't prepared for the conversation.

She blindsided me, saying suddenly, "Eric's in the city."

I faltered, almost planting my foot in the pan of canary yellow paint. Thankfully, my newly gained speed allowed me to sidestep away just in time. Pam looked away politely.

"Fangtasia's doing exceedingly well," she continued, as if nothing had happened.

"I'm glad to hear it," I answered, carefully keeping my voice neutral.

"Do you want to know where he's staying?"

"No, I do not."

She put down her roller and faced me. "You have to see him eventually."

"No, I do not."

"You have to tell him."

"No, I do not."

"Abby, this is absurd! He has to know! He has a right to know!"

I snapped. My hormones were going berserk on a daily basis as it was; my rage boiled easily to the surface. I slammed my paint roller to the ground, splashing paint across the dropcloth. I hadn't quite adjusted to my growing strength yet, and the roller broke from the handle on impact.

"Eric will never know."

Pam met my fury with her own. Everything had escalated so quickly, but I supposed that was to be expected when a pregnant woman and vampire clashed.

"He is your bonded," she hissed.

I laughed. "My bonded? The last time I saw my bonded he threw me against a wall and said he'd kill me if he ever saw me again. Then he cut whatever bond we had."

"Eric is volatile," Pam said dismissively, "He was angry, and to his thinking at the time, justly so. It's impossible to sever your bond. He may have suppressed it, to keep you out. Vampires like Eric hardly ever take long term human lovers and when they do, it's usually as a pet. It is a risk for a vampire to love a human. But Eric loves you despite the risk. Can't you understand the pain he felt thinking you'd betrayed him?"

"I do. But I also know that he gave me no time to explain. He wouldn't listen to me at all." I sighed and looked away, deflated. "It's better this way. If it was a risk for him to love me, the risk is double now. Hopefully the baby and I can pass as human and he'll never be the wiser." I glanced at Pam pointedly.

She shook her head at me. "You two were made for each other," she muttered and went back to painting without another word.