Kerrelyn Sparks: Vampire Mine

Bugger. How long had it been? Thirty years? Fifty? Too damned long if he couldn’t even remember. No wonder he was a coldhearted old bastard.

Gregori, who always kept a roll of Vampos in his coat pocket, was constantly nagging Connor to go with him to the vampire nightclubs. Apparently, his plaid kilt and Scottish accent would make him an automatic “babe magnet.” There was a multitude of “hot chicks,” as Gregori called them, who wanted to relieve the boredom of immortality with a night of screaming wild sex. Gregori claimed it was their manly duty to keep all those Vamp women happy.

So far, Connor had declined. Attempting to cure his loneliness with a long line of faceless, nameless, desperate, Undead women didn’t seem appealing. Or very honorable. Hypocrite , a small voice in the back of his mind needled him. Who are ye fooling, pretending to be a man of honor? Ye know what ye did.

He struck the voice down and glanced back at the surveillance monitors. Father Andrew had reached the foyer, and he set his briefcase on the table where Phineas had checked it earlier in the evening. As a safety precaution, all items brought into Romatech had to be searched.

The priest had left his overcoat on the table earlier, but instead of putting it on and heading out the front door, he strode across the foyer into the hallway on the left. Connor frowned, wondering what the old priest was up to. The hallway was empty except for . . .

“Bugger,” Connor whispered as the priest marched straight toward the MacKay security office.

He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t here. With a groan, he pushed back a long strand of hair that had escaped the leather tie at the nape of his neck while he’d been running about the grounds.

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Can I help you, Father?”

The priest smiled. “Connor, good to see you again.” He shook hands, then peeked inside the office. “Fascinating. I’ve never seen this room before. May I?”

Connor motioned for him to enter, then followed him inside.

Father Andrew pivoted, scanning the office. His eyebrows rose at the sight of all the weapons in the caged-off area in the back. He turned toward the wall of surveillance monitors. “I wanted to let you know how much we appreciate you keeping us safe during Mass.”

Connor inclined his head. It wasn’t an idle compliment. The Malcontents had tried bombing the chapel before. With Roman in attendance, along with Angus MacKay and other high-profile members of the bottle-drinking Vamp world, they were practically begging for an attack.

The priest gestured to the screen showing the chapel. “So you were still able to watch the service?”

“Aye.” Connor didn’t admit that he’d kept the volume turned off. “I wasna here all the time. I did four perimeter checks.”

“You’re very vigilant,” Father Andrew said with the hint of a smile. The silver fringe of hair surrounding his bald crown indicated an advanced age, yet his clear blue eyes and smooth skin lent him an oddly youthful and innocent appearance. “Roman and his family are fortunate to have you.”

Connor shifted his weight. “Roman is verra important.”

The priest’s smile widened. “You are all important in the eyes of the Lord. I was wondering why you volunteer to guard us every week. Surely you could take turns with the other men? I haven’t seen you at Mass for months now.”

Connor winced inwardly. He should have known this was coming.

“I’m concerned about you,” the priest continued. “Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I feel like you’ve grown more isolated and . . . unhappy in the last few years. Roman agrees—”

“Ye talked to Roman about me?” Connor snapped.

The priest’s eyes widened, but he remained quiet until Connor felt a twinge of guilt for raising his voice.

“Roman tells me you’re approaching your five hundredth birthday,” Father Andrew said in a soothing tone. “I’ve heard that can cause feelings of depression or—”

“Bull crap.”

“—or anger,” the priest finished his sentence with a pointed look. “In your case, I fear you’re shutting yourself off from your friends, which will result in you feeling even more alone. What do you think, Connor? Do you feel isolated?”

Not isolated enough since he was forced to endure this conversation. He shoved the annoying strand of hair behind his ear. “ ’Tis no’ the same anymore. All the men are getting married.”

“I heard that you disapprove of their relationships.”

Connor shot him an irritated look. “ ’Tis no’ that I want them to be lonely and miserable. They just doona see the risk they’re taking. There’s nothing more important to vampires than keeping our existence a secret. That has been our top priority for centuries, and they’re foolishly flaunting it.”

“They’re in love.”

Connor snorted.

“You don’t believe in love?”

Connor grimaced as if he’d been poked with a spear. Oh, he believed in love all right. Love was a bitch.

Father Andrew watched him closely. “There’s no need to feel alone, Connor. You could come to Mass with your friends and take Holy Communion.”

The wily priest was going for the jugular. Connor was purposely avoiding Communion. He’d been raised to believe he would have to go to confession first.

Father Andrew slipped on his reading glasses and removed a Day-Timer from his coat pocket. “I’d like to set up an appointment with you.”

“I’m busy.”

The priest ignored that remark as he thumbed through the pages. “Roman would give you the time off.”

“No thanks.”

“How about next Thursday evening at nine? I could meet you here.”

“Nay.”

With his hand resting on an open page of his Day-Timer, Father Andrew peered over the rims of his reading glasses. “I’ve been a priest for over fifty years. I can tell when a man is in need of confession.”

Connor stepped back, his jaw clenched. “I confess nothing.”

Father Andrew removed his glasses and fixed his blue eyes on Connor with a hard stare. “You won’t scare me away. I will fight for you.”

A chill crept over Connor’s skin. The fight had been lost centuries ago.

The priest closed his Day-Timer with a snap and stuffed it into his coat pocket. “I assume you fought in the Great Vampire War of 1710? And until Roman invented synthetic blood in 1987, you survived by feeding off humans?”

Connor folded his arms across his chest. So in lieu of a confession, the priest was attempting an interrogation.

“I’ve learned a great deal about your world in the last five years.” Father Andrew slid his glasses back into his chest pocket. “I seriously doubt there is anything you could tell me that I haven’t heard before.”

He was wrong about that. Connor motioned toward the door to indicate that the meeting was over.

A hint of amusement glinted in the priest’s eyes. “You’re a man of few words. I like that.” He took one last look around the room, and his gaze fell on the screen showing DVN. “That woman looks familiar. Wasn’t she the one who tried to wreak havoc on Jack’s engagement party?”

Connor glanced at the monitor, which displayed a close-up of a woman whose bright red lips were twisted into a smug smile. “That’s Corky Courrant. She hosts the show Live with the Undead .”

“So this is the vampire channel?” The priest stepped closer. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Connor sighed. The old man seemed fascinated with anything from the vampire world. Along the bottom of the screen, a message announced that Corky was about to interview her mystery guest. Corky quivered with excitement as the camera moved back and the shot widened.