Page 8 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter eight

Evelina

Minnesota Ark Prime—Ten minutes later

F or cripes’ sake. Poor Daisy. Getting into my outdoor gear takes longer than I like, but I’m soon outside in the freezing cold. I scramble up the ladder built into the side of the dome and fight against the high winds. Any moment now I’m gonna get blown off and slammed to the ground.

The tool belt around my hips isn’t helping my balance. When I reach the top and see the problem, I let out a relieved breath. The metal antenna structure still stands—I was so afraid it toppled over. Instead, a cable came loose. Six zip ties later, I have the cable reattached. I test the comm, clicking my tongue. “This is Evelina. I need vet service for Minnesota Prime. Horse in distress.”

“Hi, Evelina!”

“Charlie, is that you?”

“You betcha!”

Since the communications system is back in service, I hurry down the frosty ladder, relying on the grippers built into my gloves and boots to keep from plummeting to the frozen ground. “Daisy’s got a problem, been rolling on the ground. Colic, I suspect.”

“Right now we’re backed up.”

“Geez Louise. Daisy’s one of my oldest girls. How soon can I get service?”

“Our two overnight vets are both dealing with emergency births. No one else is on call.”

Yeah, that’ll take precedence over colic. “Can you put us in the rotation? Soon as someone opens up, I’d appreciate having a vet take a look at her.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Charlie, you’re the best.”

I make my way into the garage without the door getting blown off, although the hardened corrugated metal rattles mightily as the motorized chain lowers it into place. I take a fast decon shower, then throw on jeans and a t-shirt and rush back to where I left Valroy with Daisy.

And I come to a freakin’ halt, not believing what I see. “Why do you have your hand up my horse’s ass?”

“Calm yourself.” His head is turned, his cheek flush against her rump. “Horses are sensitive. You’re going to spook her.”

“Spook her? You’re the one—”

“Hush.” He pulls his gloved hand out, holding a palm full of bright green poop. “Colic. She’s impacted. See the mucous? She’s dehydrated and constipated.”

“I know what impacted means.”

“She’s not acting like there’s a twist in her intestine.” He presses with his other hand against her belly’s side, then strips off the disposable glove, covering the poop and tying a knot in the open end. “Let’s start with hydrating her. Do you have any tubing? I’ll need a clean bucket of water and some food-grade oil.”

In our time together so far, he’s shown no skill in caring for animals until just before I ran to fix the antenna. He still calls Lucy and Ricky beasts, but suddenly, he’s knowledgeable about horses, and gentle to boot.

I walk cautiously to the mare and pet her flank. “You want to stick a nasogastric tube in her? How does a rich lord like you know how to care for a horse?”

He gives me a now-familiar grin. “Must you always insist on pretending you don’t know how to say the word dominus ?”

“Yeah, I do, and I will until you call Lucy and Ricky by their names.”

“Touché.”

“Now answer the question. How do you know about horse care?”

“My mother taught me. Horses are a rare commodity in New Rome, and they die too easily. Every dominus who’s been gifted with one must care for them—we can’t rely on vets; too few people are schooled in the art of animal care. Mother trained me for everything except surgery, and I’ve even helped a few mares deliver their foals.”

I stand there dazed. Sure, he couldn’t cook when he arrived here, but now that I consider it, he didn’t shy away from watching me butcher the bison or get squeamish about the chicken, either.

He gives me a small smile. “I guess I’m useful after all.”

I shake my head as I find a bucket, fill it with water, and grab the hand pump along with a gallon of the oily stuff the Lux vet adds to the water. I check the label. “A cup to two gallons of water.”

“Understood.” He measures and pours. “Where’s the tubing?”

I point to the rack, then I go hunting for the lube in one of the cabinet drawers.

He examines the three sizes. “We’ll use the medium tube.” He holds out the end that’ll go up Daisy’s nose.

I squirt a liberal amount of lube on that end.

“Okay, girl,” he says, gently fingering her nose. “We’re going to give you some fluids to help things move.”

She’s been through this before, so I expect he’ll have an easier time. As he gets her used to the sensation of his fingers, I keep her head steady and tilted down. Then he feeds the tube into one nostril.

She snorts and tries to bob her head.

“Settle down,” he says firmly, holding her halter, and she finally gives in and lets him push in more tubing. He goes through all the checks the Lux vet does.

I’d be afraid to insert the tube myself. It’s one thing to watch the vet, but I’ve never been trained, or I’d shove him out of the way and take over. But I remember what steps to look for from all the times I’ve watched.

“Okay, it’s in her stomach.”

“How do you know the tube isn’t in her trachea? Dr. Clarke is always concerned—”

“Look, feel here.”

He lifts his fingers away, and I press my hand against Daisy’s left side.

“That’s the esophagus. She’d be coughing persistently and having a hard time breathing if the tube were in her trachea.” He steps away from me and props the water bucket on a bale of hay. “Okay, hold her halter again. Keep her head steady.”

I move into position, and he slowly pumps the oily liquid into Daisy’s stomach.

“Any reason she won’t drink water?” he asks as he works.

I keep a firm grip on her halter. “She’s an old girl. This happens in the winter. On cold, wet days, they don’t drink enough water, especially the older ones.”

“I’ve read about that. We don’t have the same problem because it doesn’t get cold in New Rome. But I’ve had horses become impacted for reasons other than the weather.” He pumps a few more times. “Until this clears up, feed her water-soaked grain, so she gets extra moisture. Maybe a little salt sprinkled on her hay. Don’t just rely on a salt lick. You need to trick her into eating the salt.”

“I’ll check with the Lux vet when they get here.”

“Twenty denarii says your vet will agree with me.” He slows his pumping. “Okay, that’s it.” He disconnects the pump and blows into the end of the tube, then crimps it. “Hold her still while I pull out the tubing.”

I get a good grip on her, and he tugs on the tubing, winding it into the bucket. He takes the gear over to the sink and cleans it while I pat Daisy and reassure the old girl, then walk her around the corral on the lead. The other horses have returned to the feed trough that the robots have filled.

“Don’t walk her around too much,” he says. “Let her rest, and we’ll see how she does. When do the horses go in the barn?”

I glance at my watch. It’s an old-fashioned windup kind, and I never have to worry about running out of batteries. “In another hour or two. The robots take care of it.”

A lawn swing I rescued ages ago sits by the corral. He plops down onto the padded bench, and then jumps back to his feet when it moves.

I laugh, but not loud enough to startle Daisy.

He scowls. “Couches are not supposed to move.”

“That one does. Look, you can go inside and grab some shuteye. I’ll stay out here until the vet comes.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Except to get a blanket, maybe.”

“You’ll find a pile inside the barn. They’re old wool horse blankets and a bit scratchy, but they’ll do.”

I take the lead rope off Daisy and pat her while he grabs the blankets. She snuffles my pocket, looking for treats. “None for you, not today, girl. When you’re better, I’ll see what I can do.”

He returns and spreads a blanket on the swing, then motions for me to join him. I sit, and he throws a blanket over our laps and tugs another across our shoulders, leaving his arm resting there. Not quite holding me, but not quite on the swing’s backrest, either.

“This okay?” he asks.

“This’ll do.” I should say no . Put some distance between us. I’ve been careful to set a clear boundary, and aside from when I’m showing him something, like how to aim the rifle, I’ve enforced that boundary. But he feels so good snuggled next to me.

I carefully lay my head on his shoulder. He lays his cheek on the top of my head, and minutes later, I hear his gentle snores. I’m well used to the sound now. It makes me smile to be reminded how mortal he is. I take his hands in mine—the smooth hands of a gentleman—and squeeze, then pull him closer with a sigh.

Who would’ve thought Lord High-and-Mighty knew how to care for a horse? I’m still surprised by that, and that he didn’t think to share the fact sooner. Let’s hear it for strong mamas who teach their sons how to get in the muck. Though she might have taught him to cook, too. Or should I blame that on his papa?

The way he’s propped against me, he’s gonna wake with a crick in his neck. I gently guide him down until his head rests in my lap, and he rolls to his side with his legs curled up on the swing’s bench. I brush the tousled hair out of his eyes, and he doesn’t move.

Such a gorgeous guy.

Tracing his square jawline with one finger, I bask in this chance to study him. The only time I take chances like this is when he can’t push against the boundary line I’ve erected and tempt me. He has the cutest dimple in his chin. Reminds me of being a kid, baking cookies with my mom, using my thumb to make the indent to fill with jam. If I pressed my finger against his dimple, would it get larger?

His cheekbones are high, as are his eyebrows. His forehead is shorter, his hairline smooth. No widow’s peak. I stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. Soft skin, but bristles are growing there.

I bite back a chuckle at remembering the mess he made when he was learning to use the straight-edge razor. New Rome doesn’t have disposable razors. The Collapse destroyed the manufacturing of most disposable luxury products. But that wasn’t the issue. His servants always shaved him. He cut himself up so bad on his first try that the smell tempted me to lick the cuts until they closed. Instead, I resisted and offered my blood to him out of pity. He’s got the hang of it now.

I’ve never had to care for a mortal before. Prior to the Collapse, I only dated very young vampires, because it’s easy to keep them from getting serious. I can count on one hand the vampire couples who’ve lasted long term. The young ones always leave in a decade or two when they get restless. In the meantime, their blood tastes almost mortal without the disadvantages that mortals come with—someday, they’ll die.

For cripes’ sake. What am I doing? Living with a mortal is the worst thing I can do, and yet I’ve been doing it for three weeks without a thought. Not that I’ve had any choice in the matter.

I squeeze my eyes shut. This isn’t fair to either of us. It’s not safe to let him into my heart. Every chance he has, he talks about finding a way back to New Rome to rescue his sister. He doesn’t fight me on it so much anymore, but instead plays fifty questions, asking what me and my team tried. I know there isn’t a way to get into a mortal-only dome.

That’s not what has me worried.

After the Lux finish making their point about rescuing strays, they’ll move him to a mixed dome—I know they will. They never leave rescued mortals in the arks, ’cause mortals require too much time and attention.

And I have to protect my heart from that eventuality.

I lean back, resting my arm on his chest, and glance over at Daisy. She’s lying on the ground, but she isn’t rolling around. No signs of distress. Probably sleeping.

I flick my gaze toward the night sky. Whenever the real moon breaks through the cloud cover—a rare occurrence at best—the dome takes on an opalescent effect, reminding me of the silver in an old bottle of nail polish after being shaken, streaking the shiny bits through the night sky’s midnight-blue backdrop and fake stars.

For the rest of the night, Valroy and I stay on the lawn swing, with his head on my lap. About an hour before sunrise, Daisy suddenly rises to her hooves and poops.

I nudge Valroy. “Hey, sleepyhead. It worked.”

He sits up. “Huh?”

“Daisy just pooped.”

He rubs his eyes and strides to the corral. “The robots didn’t take her into the barn?”

“I told them to leave her there.” Stepping up on the corral’s lower rail, I’m as tall as him now. “I wanted to watch her.”

“How long has it been?”

“About seven hours.”

“That’s a good sign. Did the vet come by?”

“Not yet.”

Daisy walks over to us and nuzzles my pocket.

“What’s she looking for?” he asks.

“Treats.”

“She can’t have any of those yet. But we can start her out on a small amount of water-soaked mash. See how she does.”

I jump off the rail and stride over to the feed bin. Taking a bucket, I scoop in the right amount of grain, then add water.

I glance up at the sky. “Gotta go indoors soon.”

Valroy nods.

I hold the bucket out to Daisy. She buries her nose in the bucket and scarfs down the mushy feed.

“Easy, girl,” he says, petting her forehead with careful gentleness.

Something in me simply bursts then. Or maybe some wall crumbles, and my self-preservation flees. I’m not sure which, but I hand him the bucket, grab his face between my hands…

And I kiss him.

Tingles run down my spine, and my fangs threaten to pop out. I feel him stiffen in shock and then soften, leaning into me. This is the first time we’ve kissed since the night I rescued him. We’ve spent weeks dancing around the attraction I’ve worked hard to ignore. Now I want to drag him into my bedroom, toss him on the bed, and have my way with him, which is exactly why I crossed this line just before the sun rises.

Break one rule, but not all of them.

I pull back, and the look on his face about kills me. He’s got that dreamy look I’ve seen guys get when they’re falling in like . His golden-brown eyes stare into mine, and my heart flutters.

“Valroy—”

He strokes my cheek. “Evelina.”

Come on, girl. You can’t catch feelings.

I glance at the sky again. “The sun.”

I whoosh away, a strange, light feeling in my chest, along with a sense of dread filling my stomach. I’ve just shifted the line between us. Opened us up to new possibilities.

Oh, this is so not good.

I fear something deeper developing, because that’s the way it is between mortals and vampires.

I’ve lost my heart before, had the poor organ smashed to smithereens back when I was still mortal, and I never want to fall in love again.

But the beginning feels kinda like this.

I take a deep breath, fighting against the longing for Valroy creeping over me.

I’m afraid I haven’t been careful enough this time.