I'm a What? [BOOK FOUR]

Oh. Well that made sense. I didn't even know what date it was today, just that it was a Wednesday. Maybe. "Okay, got that. Continue."

"I was the owner of an Inn or what you might call a brothel."

My eyes bulged and I nearly fell out of my seat. "You were a pimp?" I could have seen Luther as a king, an advisor—hell! Anything other than a freakin' pimp. I just couldn't imagine the teen-looking vamp walking around in purple-dyed animal skin coats and slapping women upside the head as he demanded, "Where dost my money lie, ye Charlton?"

Luther began to shake, and I thought maybe we were hitting turbulence. But then a laugh burst from his lips and I realized he was laughing. Full blown, stomach grabbing, eyes watering laughing. I didn't think I'd ever heard Luther laugh.

"Everything alright back there, habibiti?" Bane called out.

I slapped Luther on the arm and sat up to look over the headrest of the seat in front of me. "Luther's just laughing at me."

I slunk back down and glared at the Merchant until his fit subsided. He wiped tears from his eyes and blew out a huge breath that he hadn't needed to take in the first place. "There were so many things wrong with that statement, Peaches; I'm not even sure where to start." He ran a hand through his hair and settled back in his seat. "I've never worn purple animal skins, and at the time purple was not a color commoners were permitted to wear, or even one that was easily obtained. Secondly, I rented rooms to the women to conduct their business; I never directly handled their clients or interfered in their work. It was, for all intents and purposes, an inn. The clientele simply had less than sterling reputations."

Well excuse the hell out of me for thinking that Luther was a pimp when he said brothel. Of course, I should have assumed he was an innkeeper. Most people would, no doubt.

"Are you going to listen to the story or be sarcastic?"

I shrugged. "Little of both." A frown tugged at my lips, and I thought back to when I'd accidentally divided into Luther's memories and saw him on a battlefield, run through with a spear. "You were a vamp in that battle right? So were you a human innkeeper?"

"Yes."

"Was Samantha with you?"

"No, I met her a few centuries later."

"But wait," I held up my hand. "I could have sworn she said something about you two having a daughter. But Bane told me vampires couldn't have kids, so... I'm confused."

"I was a vampire when I met Samantha, but she cursed me and suppressed my powers, making me near-mortal."

"Why'd she curse you?"

He sighed. "That is a story for another day, perhaps."

"Okay," I drew out, brows furrowed. "Well, how long were you cursed?"

"A few years."

Wow. It was weird to think that Samantha and Luther had ever fought, or that she'd put some kind of curse on him. It just didn't feel right. I couldn't equate the sincere and loving woman I knew with the sort of person who would turn a vampire human and then let him get run through with a spear. It just didn't add up.

"People change, Peaches." Luther reached for my hand and touched me. He never touched me. "We become whatever we need to be based on the time and situation. Samantha had to be ruthless at that time and I had to be... something else entirely. We don't blame each other for our previous actions or hold them over our relationship."

That meant the couple was smarter than most, and Luther was probably one of the smartest men alive if he was telling the truth. That was probably one of the reasons I had mixed feelings about him. Still, I could see that he truly loved Samantha and didn't allow whatever negative things that happened between them in the past dictate their future. Maybe that's why they worked—because they'd figured out that at the end of the day love forgives all.

Luther snorted. "Believes me, it doesn't." He pulled his hand away from mine and his voice was so low, so troubled, I almost missed it. "I have done things to my wife that are unforgivable."

Well, this wasn't how I expected the conversation to go. I decided to let that open-wound slide and get back to a safer topic. Prying into Luther's past seemed wrong. What he'd done, who he'd been, did not define the man in front of me. It was his future actions I was worried about, because—contrary to Mr. Applecross's repeated words in our stuffy sixth grade history class—history doesn't always repeat itself. "You were an innkeeper?"

Luther nodded his head, and I felt some of the tension holding him evaporate. "Yes, and I was a very good one. Men and women from all walks of life came into my inn because they knew I kept a clean house and my mouth shut." He laughed, the sound low and dangerous. "I knew things, Peaches. Things that people would kill for, die for, and trade anything for."

"So I'm guessing you traded with Bane?" By the look on his face I was thinking he'd traded secrets for immortality. I couldn't even say I blamed him. I would have done the same thing in his shoes. Hell, most people would have done the same thing in his shoes!

"Yes," his voice was soft, and I almost didn't catch it, "I knew the minute Bane and Zenobia walked into my inn they weren't human. No one moved like them. No one looked like them. No one sounded like them.

"They knew my language. Knew the trade routes and surrounding countries. They were wealthy, educated, and very mysterious. They stayed with me for three weeks. By the end of the first week I knew what they were. By the second week, I knew I wanted to be one of them. And by the third week, I was a vampire."

Damn, Bane moved fast. "Zeno was with him?" I wanted to ask, 'Like with him-with him, or just with him?' but was too damn proud. Even if Zeno had slept with Bane in the past, I was the one with him now.

Luther shook his head softly, and his voice wasn't whisper-soft anymore. "They have never been romantically involved."

Whew, that was a load off my shoulders. "That all sounds cool, but why didn't Bane and Zeno use their mind control on you and make you tell them everything? Wouldn't that have been easier?"

"Think, Peaches. What is more powerful than information?"

If I'd learned anything from the vampires in the last two weeks, it was to see the bigger picture, analyze everything, and never assume what you could know as a fact. Luther had information, but something more powerful than information would be... Luther himself. Information changed, but a contact, a person people trusted with their secrets—oh, that was hard to pass up.

"Precisely," Luther murmured in agreement, "What I provided them were ways to keep their secrets hidden. Why do you think vampires have existed so long without being discovered? We have our hands in everything, know how to manipulate events so that we always remain hidden. That is why our kings and queens exist. Why Merchants exist. It is an archaic model, but an intricately woven one that has existed and subtly morphed with time."

I got why he was turned into a vampire, and I knew how Luther and Bane had met. But everything he'd said didn't exactly inspire trust in me. He'd manipulated Bane, used his power of information to get his way. Why couldn't he do the same thing with me?

"If you haven't noticed, Peaches, Miliki is very protective of you. In fact, he's protective of all the vampires under him. He would do everything and anything to ensure their safety." Luther paused. "I became a vampire because he saw a way to protect his people. My knowledge of you places me in more danger than all the secrets I carry."

He gave me a look that I didn't know how to take. "You should trust me, because I am placing not only my life, but my wife's life on the line by being here with you. Everything we have done up to this point—training you, hiding you away at the Alpha's compound—has been to protect you."

Luther leaned closer to me. "When Miliki brought you to the party, he wasn't trying to discover what you were. He knew no vampire there was going to know. You would have been discovered sooner or later either for your scent or the thoughts running through your mind. He was staking his claim, showing everyone that you were his."

"Wait." I held up a finger. "Are you telling me everything Bane did up to that point was just to humor and protect me?"

Luther raised an eyebrow. "Is that so hard to believe?"

It wasn't, but it's not like I'd known Bane for a very long time then. We'd been strangers, and yet he'd gotten the idea in his head pretty quickly to do all of that?

"Yes," Luther answered my mental question, "We've been alive for centuries, Peaches. Almost every action we do, everything we say, is deliberate."

I was kind of upset that Luther was making a lot of sense. Everyone was risking their lives for me, I'd known that before, but now I knew they were sort of grandfathered into it. Bane wouldn't let me die without using every tool at his disposal to stop it, and our friends were unfortunately part of his tool box. Samantha was a witch with all types of powers, Luther probably had more secrets and connections than I had people in my entire extended family, Zenobia was a military expert, and Casper was a top notch fighter. I knew I didn't just have these people randomly around me. They all brought something to the table that, in one way or another, protected Bane and me.

"So you're an innkeeper pimp turned secret-keeping vampire, and I'm supposed to trust you because Bane will kill you if you blab, and you're all basically risking your lives for me?"

"No," he bit off angrily. "I didn't have to risk my life or involve my wife. I didn't have to show up at your hotel room and offer my services, because whether you believe it or not that is what I did. And I certainly did not have to train you or vouch for you as queen. I've had multiple chances to kill you and betray you to someone who would, and despite the power your husband has, I can assure you he wouldn't kill me easily.

"I am not trying to negate my... shiftiness. I am trying to explain why, in your case, you should not fear it. Many, many times, Peaches, I've had cause to fear you, cause to kill you. If I had not known you from the beginning, I would have labeled you as a demon girl who used her magic to trap a king. One who kills anyone who tries to get close to her, and enchants anyone she might deem useful. She knows the powers that she holds and exactly what she is, but she keeps it to herself, lulling the vampires around her into a false sense of security until she is ready to attack. Yet every so often, she slips up; the intelligent, calculating, ruthless mind of a person that wishes harm to others pops up and leaves the vampires about her to question if that seemingly inept girl is actually a calculating, manipulative woman."

Wow had that been laden with insults. Thankfully it was only hypothetical; or rather I was taking it in the hypothetical sense. "I see your point." Saw it, but that didn't mean I liked it.

"You do not have to like facts, you do not even have to agree with them, but you must know that they exist." Luther stood up. "It is a fact that no one on this plane will kill you—and there are more reasons than just their lives. That is the truth; you may take it however you like." With that, he turned and left.

I knew he was right, even if he'd been a prick about it. Every other vampire I met, or even would meet, could be looking to kill, kidnap, or use me, but the people on this plane never would. Luther had made that clear, and even though I still didn't fully trust him, truth didn't lie.

Chapter Four: Back to the Root

The plane ride had been a sobering experience for many reasons, but maybe the biggest was that the vampires really were my friends. Luther was right. No one really had to stay. They could all leave—with Bane's stipulations, of course—but they had the choice. They'd chosen me.

It was hard to digest that considering my definition of a real friend was someone who told me when I looked fat in a dress and when my boyfriend was treating me like crap, not when they were teaching me how to survive and protecting me with their lives.

Ahh, I needed to stop thinking about it, because if I thought about it then I wondered if I was a good person and if I was a good friend. Luther had made the point that I was a loose cannon, and that probably meant everyone thought of me that way, too. Could I be friends with a person like me if I was in their shoes? No. Hell no. Fuck no. That would be like a kid being friends with a bomb and hoping with all the protective pillows she gave it, the thing wouldn't go off.

I tucked my knees up, propped them on the dashboard of the car, and shifted in my seat for the hundredth time to get comfortable. I tried not to reach around and scratch at my back even though my wing tattoo itched like a million fire ants were having a party under my skin. I'd been able to let my wings out after we touched down at the private airstrip on the outskirts of Burlington, but that had only been for a few minutes.

It had felt both relaxing and very uncomfortable. The uncomfortable part was that keeping my wings, uh, inside my body, or my tattoo, or whatever, felt like keeping my hair pulled back in a tight bun. It didn't exactly hurt, but it didn't feel very good either. That moment I let my hair down (or in this case my wings out) was practically orgasmic. The minute my wings were free from the tattoo they flapped so fast that they looked like smudges against the sky, and dust kicked up around me in mini tornados. That old saying, 'A butterfly flaps its wings in Brazil, and we get a hurricane off the coast of Florida,' was actually modeled after me, or well, someone who had my abilities at least.

None of the vamps had asked to touch them, but everyone looked at the wings like they might just hop off my back and attack them. I was hoping that didn't happen, but my powers were about as random as the stars in the sky. Wait, were those random?

Luther thought that the dust on the edges of my wings might be some sort of highly addictive and intoxicating aphrodisiac. Bane and Casper had agreed with him. However, Samantha had been more or less on her own team, not assuming anything. I joined Samantha in my thinking. I didn't assume that my wing dust was an aphrodisiac—I also didn't put it out of the realm of possibility—but I knew from past experience that when it came to me, assuming would be the worst.

Which made me think that I wasn't really a butterfly monster. Maybe the wings would disappear like my fur/fuzz, or maybe they would turn into something else, like dragon wings and I would grow a tail and talons. I didn't know. So, for the time being I was still in the mystery box and the only people who could potentially label that sucker were my mom and dad.

I looked out the window and tried to take my mind off of my wings. It was only another thirty minutes or so to my parents' house and I didn't want to spend the time thinking about the itching going on under my skin. I cast a sidelong glance at Bane, then turned my head and looked at the back. Three different sized boxes crowded the seat, and I wondered what I'd done to get gifts lately. Well, I mean, he hadn't given me anything for my coronation.

"Are we going to go to the hotel to drop the presents off first?" I could also go for a shower. Plane-smell stuck to me something fierce.

"No." I watched his shoulders tense and his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. "And they're not for you?"

"What'd ya mean 'not for me'?" Did Bane have a chick on the side?

"You are more than enough for me, habibiti."

Even though the words were sweet, I still had a mini heart attack when Bane took his hand off the steering wheel and linked out fingers and then took his eyes off the road and looked at me while he kissed my knuckles. I didn't like when my husband took any focus off his driving. Freaked me out! The dude was a speed demon and always went over the speed limit, which meant I always feared for my undead life. "The road, Bane!"

I watched his lips quirk as he turned and stared straight ahead. "They're not for you."

I blinked and let out a thankful sigh when Bane put his hand back on the steering wheel.

"Who're they for?" I asked Bane as he sped down the highway. I looked at the signs, but couldn't catch the numbers. That was fine. I knew the road highway we were on like the back of my hand, and after we crossed the sawed off 'Beware of Bears' sign, I knew it was only another ten minutes. Damn, time passed quickly.

I hadn't even bothered to ask how Bane knew where my house was. Vampires might not be all knowing, but if they wanted to know something they'd use every ounce of their power to get it. Cheat, steal, lie, or kill, vampires wrote the book on getting what they wanted.

"I think you put too much stock in my kind, habibiti."

"Nope." I shook my head. "From where I'm sitting, you guys are the baddest things on this planet."

"I think we need to get you another seat."

We curved around an exit and, for a second, I was plastered against the window, kissing cool glass. I almost didn't catch what he said, but along with healing quicker, I noticed that my other senses were heightened, too. When he touched me everything had felt hotter, wetter, as if I could feel the ridges in his fingertips and smell the blood in his veins. It still wasn't anything like when I'd first woken up and the senses had overwhelmed me. It was just that everything was a little clearer now. Still, I didn't think I could hear a mouse eat cheese in a house three doors away, or heal with the speediness of vampires.

I was getting better at getting back on topic. Not great, but better. "Who're the presents for?"

I watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He'd been hoping I'd forget and let the topic drop. I wondered why. "Your parents."

Okay. And the problem was?

Bane kept his lips firmly closed and his eyes on the road.

He didn't answer my mental question, which sort of pissed me off. Okay, why would gifts for my parents piss me off? If anything, it was a really nice gesture. A little weird considering he'd never met them, but maybe it was cultural.

The answer hit me like a hand on one of those V-8 commercials. I was surprised I didn't hear that thunking sound. "Is that gift a bride price?"

He grimaced. "No. You're already my wife."

I narrowed my eyes at my husband. "But if we'd had any sort of a traditional wedding, that would be a bride price, correct?"

Bane sighed. "I didn't want to tell you because—"

"I'd get angry?" I interrupted. "Damn right!" I slapped my hands on my hips. I wasn't a possession to be bought and sold. I was a person with rights and stuff. I wasn't chattel, or cattle, or whatever the stupid word was. I was me. "I'm not a fucking possession, Bane."

He turned his eyes to me, and they sparked anger. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you. You don't understand my customs, Peaches. I am an Egyptian male, over a thousand years old. I have seen things you cannot even begin to comprehend, done things that would turn your blood cold. But I am who I am. That is a gift, a part of my culture, a part of me. You are not a fucking possession; you are my wife. When have I ever treated you differently?"

I glanced at him, opened my mouth, tried to talk, and stuttered. He was... damn, he was right! Bride prices were cultural. I knew that from my Women of Other Nations class that bride prices were an inherent part of some cultures, and were often necessary for a family to survive.

My family, of course, didn't need whatever Bane was going to give them. As middle class white folks, we had it pretty good in America. So even though the bride price gift chafed like a rash on a hot day, I settled back in my seat, kept my mouth shut, and tried to adjust my way of thinking to fit Bane's archaic culture.