Page 77 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

“Thank you, Faith.” He let the debate over her lethargy drop and said, “I will not be far, pintura. Call if you need me.”

“Soon as I find a phone,” she joked, eager to be rid of him.

Call with your mind, pintura. And you’ll never be rid of me.

She scrunched her face with the fakest smile she could manage. Can you sense my eye roll?

Very much so. Can you sense this?

She stiffened as a wave of ecstasy stole through her. What the hell was that?

Behave, and I’ll show you later.

Intrigued and slightly violated, she scoffed and followed Faith inside. Telepathic pervert.

The little boy fussed as they entered a den that was disturbingly similar to Christian’s. “I don’t want a nap.”

“Hush now.” The boy pouted and kicked a leg in defiance, but Faith didn’t bend.

Strangely, the moment Christian was gone, Delilah felt oddly incomplete as if part of her body had been stripped bare. It was an awkward and uncomfortable sensation she didn’t understand, especially after days of trying to escape his presence.

Voices carried from out back. Everything was much like Christian’s home, aside from a few color variations. Plain curtains were drawn aside to let the sunlight in and cast iron wood stoves occupied every room.

“Is this your home?” she asked Faith.

“Oh, no. This is my son’s, but he’s been ill and staying with us. For now, my grandson is living here with his new mate and my other granddaughter.”

She hadn’t realized immortals could get sick. “Oh. I hope your son feels better soon.”

She smiled graciously. “God is merciful.”

Delilah wondered what was wrong with her son. How old was he? Old enough to own a house, she supposed. Did Amish believe in modern medicine? Could immortals benefit from such remedies? Questions were quickly piling up, and she missed having Christian there to ask.

Do you need me, pintura?

He popped back into her mind with the subtlety of a frying pan to the skull. No. Bug off.

“The girls are out back.” Faith led her through the spacious rooms.

Long beams marked the wall with pegs every few inches where hats and shawls hung. None of the seating matched and there was very little furniture occupying the middle of the rooms. Oil lamps sat on handmade doilies atop what looked like hand-carved furniture.

They exited the house onto another large porch. Four women turned and smiled, rushing from the chairs where they had been sewing.

“Is this her?” the tallest of the four women asked. She was a startling beauty with a lithe body, and crystalline eyes.

They were all dressed in similar attire making it difficult to differentiate as they swarmed her.

“That’s her!” the smallest woman in the group proclaimed. “Come, sit down, Sister Delilah.” The small woman took her hand and pulled her to a wooden chair on the lawn. “Oh, you’re exhausted. Sit. Sit. Have a rest.”

A curvaceous Latina female and a pale woman with bright green eyes followed. The women gathered in a circle of wooden kitchen chairs positioned directly under the shade of an old oak tree. A basket overflowed with material in the center of the circle. A quilt spread out beneath their feet where several primitive baby toys sat forgotten.

“We’ve been working on your dresses,” the tall woman explained, pointing to the basket of fabric.

“Well, they have. I’m hopeless with a needle and thread,” the green-eyed girl holding a small baby bundled in a crocheted pink blanket, said. “I’ve just been keeping them company.”

They were all so pretty it was hard to decipher their ages.

The smallest of the four giggled. “Anna’s mending and cooking skills are quite abysmal.”

“Gracie,” the taller woman tsked. “Don’t be rude.”

“Is it rude if it’s true?” the smallest girl, Gracie, wondered.

“I’m not offended,” the woman with a baby said then smiled up at Faith. “Is Cain ready for a nap?”

“No,” little Cain said, swinging his leg from Faith’s hip.

“He’s protesting, but I think he’ll go down if you lay with him.” Faith smiled at the boy. “Do you want to lay with Momma for a bit?”

The little boy stopped fussing and rested his head on Faith’s shoulder and nodded, his arms reaching for the woman who held the bundled infant.

“I can take Lucy for a while,” the dark eyed woman said, and Delilah detected a touch of an accent. She must be one of the transitions.

“Perhaps introductions first.” The small woman pointed to herself. “I’m Gracie. This is my sister Larissa.” She waved a hand at the tall beauty with silver eyes.

“The bishop’s wife?” Delilah asked.

“That’s right,” Larissa said. “And this is Destiny and Annalise, my sisters by law.”

Destiny took the infant from Annalise, adjusting her hold so she could wave. “Oi.”

“And I’m Cain’s mommy.” Annalise took the boy from Faith and harnessed him onto her hip. “As you can see, it’s past nap time. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”