Lynsay Sands - The Reluctant Vampire

“How did you explain it?” Harper asked.

“I didn’t. What could I say? I just muttered that I’d always been strong and a fast healer and left it at that, but he started watching me more closely and started putting things together.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I stayed in my cabin all day, leaving the helm to my first, and came out to man the helm myself only at night, doing so with an unerring sense of direction, as if I could see through the darkness,” she said dryly. “That I only approached ships at night to attack them. That I was uncommonly strong, especially for a woman, and that I was as nimble in the rigging at night as they would be during the day, while they had to feel their way blindly in the dark.

“Ah,” Harper said with a grimace.

She nodded. “Then he followed me down into the hold of the ship one night when I went to visit the prisoners in search of blood to replace what I’d lost from a wound.”

Harper didn’t appear surprised by her words. Before blood banks, all of them had been forced to feed on mortals. Still, she felt she had to explain, and said, “I tried never to feed on my own crew, and even with prisoners I was careful not to take too much blood, feeding on several rather than one or two. I wiped their memories that I was ever in the hold, and our prisoners were always treated well. I was careful.”

“But he followed and saw,” Harper murmured.

“Yes.” She sighed unhappily. “He took that even worse than my being female. I did have to erase his memory then. We were already headed for port to off-load the prisoners, but I put him ashore as well. I gave him enough money that he wouldn’t have to work again and sent him on his way.” She shifted unhappily. “Privateering just wasn’t the same for me after that. And, as I say, I was tired of losing my men.”

“So you retired from pirating,” Harper said quietly.

“Yes.” Drina took another sip of wine and shrugged. “It was time for a change. Fortunately, I’d made a fortune, definitely enough to keep me in dresses for a couple of centuries.”

Harper opened his mouth to speak again, but paused as their waiter returned with their meals. They both murmured “thank you” as their plates were set before them.

Drina eyed the dish she’d selected and felt her stomach growl at the delightful aromas wafting from it. It was something called chicken fettuccini. She’d chosen it because it was listed as the chef’s special, and because it had been so long since she’d eaten that she wasn’t sure what was good or not. But this certainly smelled delightful.

“It smells amazing,” Harper murmured, sounding awed, and she glanced to his identical plate and nodded with agreement.

They fell into a companionable silence as they both dug in, but Drina found herself continually smiling as she ate. She was enjoying herself, enjoying Harper’s reactions to her tales, his laughter, his shock. . It was nice, and she decided she was going to have to thank Stephanie for arranging it.

Drina sat back in her seat with a little sigh that was half regret and half satisfaction. She had enjoyed the food and was full, but regretted not being able to finish it. It was really good.

“So,” Harper said, setting down his own fork. His expression was also full of regret as he pushed his half-eaten meal to the side, but he smiled as he glanced to her, and said, “I believe you had just finished regaling me with your pirating career and were about to explain how you landed as. . a madam?” He arched an eyebrow. “Another rebellious phase?”

Drina grinned. He was trying not to sound shocked or affected in any way by that career choice, but she could see he wasn’t taking it as calmly as he’d like her to think. Shrugging, she said, “Surely you must be bored with tales of my life by now. You should tell me more about-”

“Oh no,” Harper protested at once. “You can’t stop just before the best part.”

She grinned at his expression, and then shrugged. “After I let go of the men and sold my ship, I decided to settle in England as a wealthy widow. At least that was the plan, and I did at first,” she assured him, and then added, “Really, the madam bit was something of an accident.”

“Right,” he drawled. “You were an accidental madam.”

Drina chuckled at his expression. “As it happens, yes I was. One night, I was wandering along, hunting for a snack and minding my own business, when I happened upon a young woman being beaten.” Her smile faded at the recollection. The girl, Beth as she later found out her name was, had been half-dead when Drina had come upon the scene, but the man beating Beth had seemed determined to finish the job.

Shaking away the memory of Beth’s poor battered body, she continued, “I took exception and ended it. Then I picked her up and she directed me to her home. But it turned out it was a brothel, and the man I’d stopped had been their protector.” She said the last word with distaste, for he hadn’t been anywhere near protective of any of the women under his care. The group she’d found at that house had all been terribly young, half-starved and each bearing the scars and marks of past beatings.

Drina sighed. “Well, Beth, the girl I’d saved, told the others what I’d done. Half of the women were furious that I’d killed their “protector-”

“Killed?” Harper asked, one eyebrow flying up.

Drina grimaced. “It was part accident and part self-defense. He didn’t care for being tossed about by a female and pulled a knife. That rather irritated me, and I tossed him up the alley.” She shrugged. “He landed on his knife.”

“Ah.” Harper nodded.

“Anyway, as I say, half of them were furious I’d killed him, and the other half just didn’t seem to have the energy to care either way. Then Mary, a rather mouthy bit of goods, announced that since I’d killed their man, I was now their protector.” Drina smiled faintly at the memory. She’d been rather dismayed at the time but had felt responsible for the women and hadn’t known what else to do. So, she’d become a madam.

“According to Mary I wasn’t a very good madam,” she admitted with amusement. “I mean, I kept them safe and made sure none of their clients hurt them, but I didn’t take any of their money. In fact, it cost me money instead,” she admitted with a grin. “And as far as Mary was concerned, that made me a failure as a madam.”

Harper chuckled, but asked with interest, “So you just hung about and looked out for them for nothing?”

“At first,” she said slowly. Sighing, she admitted reluctantly, “But after a particularly nasty encounter with three drunk clients who tried to abuse one of the girls. . well, I was injured. And healed,” she said dryly.

“They sorted out what you were,” he guessed.

“One of the risks of spending too much time with mortals,” Drina said dryly. “Fortunately, the women took it much better than One-eye had. In fact, they were surprisingly accepting, and most just seemed relieved.”

“Relieved?” Harper echoed with surprise.

Drina nodded and explained, “Well, I looked out for them but would never take their money. It turns out this had left them feeling beholden, and not one of them was comfortable with that. But now they felt they had something to offer me.”

“To feed on them,” Harper breathed, sitting up.

Drina nodded solemnly. “I refused at first, but Beth sat me down and explained that I was being terribly selfish in refusing their kind offer.”

Harper started to laugh. “They had your number.”

“Perhaps,” Drina admitted with amusement. “But it wasn’t what she said so much as what she didn’t say. I realized that they were afraid. I was the best protector any of them had had. I didn’t beat or rape them, didn’t even take a cut of their money and had suffered a few injuries to protect them and yet expected nothing from them in return. It confused them. They didn’t understand why I did it.”