Chapter Eight

A few hours later, Jon lay holding a sleeping Mac in his arms. He had been thinking about how lucky he was to have finally found her. Years ago, he had ran into a close friend of his in a bar in New Mexico. Jon had been suspicious of Toby, because he hadn’t been acting like himself, and there was a wildness in his eyes that Jon had never seen before. His friend had only been 460 years old then, but Toby had never found his life-mate. The next evening when Jon had woke up, he heard the talk going around town. The bartender had found one of the saloon girls in the alley with her throat ripped out. The townspeople had been sure a wild animal had attacked her and were on the look out for a wolf or other such creature, but Jon had known that Toby had killed the woman. Staking his friend had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do, but he couldn’t stand by while Toby killed indiscriminately. Lightly, Jon kissed Mac’s forehead. He knew without the woman in his arms, Kristoff or one of his other friends might have to do to him, what he had to do to Toby.

She stirred slightly in his arms, and he wondered what she might be dreaming about. Easily, he slid into her head. At first, he just stood by watching, just a casual observer of her dream. She was dancing with a handsome dark-haired man, laughing up at the man, but then they walked up to a bar to get a drink. He stood eavesdropping on their conversation, only slightly jealous that his life-mate was dreaming about another man.

After they had placed their drink orders and the bartender had moved away, the man turned to Mac and said softly, “You shouldn’t have worn that blouse tonight, it only accentuates how big your chest is.”

“Daniel, please don’t start,” Mac told him, trying hard not to lose her temper.

“Really, Mac, it’s quite ridiculous looking, it makes you look so top heavy that you’ll fall over any minute.”

Jon had heard enough. He couldn’t stand by while the man, obviously Daniel, inflicted more emotional abuse. He had arrogantly thought that he had banished all the hateful things this man had told Mac with his earlier lovemaking, but apparently not, if she was dreaming about it.

Jon stepped up to the bar. Standing next to Mac, he leaned toward her and asked, “Could I have this dance?”

Mac looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Jon, what are you doing here?”

“A damsel needed rescuing. My damsel. Where else would I be?”

Daniel stepped around Mac. “The lady is with me,” he said angrily.

“Not for long,” Jon answered, arrogance in his tone.

Shoving Jon back, Daniel glared at him furiously and ordered, “Get lost.”

Jon drew back his right arm and slammed his fist into Daniel’s jaw. It would’ve been more satisfying if this hadn’t been Mac’s dream. But since in reality he would probably never meet the man, this was about as close as he could get. He watched Daniel go flying across the room, and almost laughed at the enormity of Mac’s sub-conscious imagination. Casually, as if he hadn’t just sent a man flying, he turned back to Mac and pulled her into his arms.

Mac looked up at him and smiled. “The music’s stopped.”

“Then I’ll sing to you,” he told her, grinning. Pulling her tighter against him, he began to sing, “Every time I look at you, baby I see something new. It takes me higher than before, it makes me want you more. I don’t wanna sleep tonight, dreaming’s just a waste of time. When I look at what my life’s been coming to...I’m all about lovin’ you.”

She laughed up at him. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You bring it out in me,” he responded.

“Tell me all your secrets,” she replied. “I want to know everything about you.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” he told her, seriously. “You might not like my secrets.”

“I like everything I know so far,” she answered impishly.

Jon almost told her the one secret he feared telling her most, just to see how she would react in her dream, but stopped himself. “Is that so?” he asked instead.

“Yeah,” she replied, “and you’re by far the best lover I’ve ever had. Although, I should warn you, your only competition is the man you sent flying across the room.”

He grinned arrogantly at her. “The best lover? Then why are you dreaming about another man?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Am I dreaming?”

Was there any rules about intruding on someone’s dream? Should he have mentioned to her that she was dreaming?

“I think you are,” he nodded, “while you’re laying in my arms.”

Mac’s eyes widened in shock, and she pulled away from him. Jon wisely decided to withdraw from her mind, and lay there feigning sleep when she awoke abruptly. He heard her gasp echo through the quiet hotel suite.

He pretended that her gasp had woke him. He jerked her tight against him as if awakening from sleep, and asked huskily, “Mac, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just dreaming,” she answered, snuggling against his chest.

“A bad dream?”

“It started out that way, but surprisingly enough it was turning quite interesting,” she murmured sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, Sweetheart,” he told her, smiling in the dark. “I’ll fight your demons for you.”

“You already have,” she told him, punctuating her statement with a big yawn.

Jon smiled as he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. He fell asleep with that same satisfied smile on his face, maybe he had finally banished her demon.


*************************

The next morning, Jon awoke to find himself alone in the bed and after a few minutes realized he was alone in the hotel suite as well. Mac must have went back to her own room. He swore softly; he had hoped to continue where they had left off the night before. Why did she have to be such an early riser? Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed how much younger he looked in sleep. He rolled over and called room service. He needed coffee and then he intended to go to the hotel gym. Jon had been neglecting his daily work outs since Mac had joined the tour. His mind had been absorbed with her, and he’d been neglecting a lot of things. Richie found him in the gym running on the treadmill.

“Hey Bro,” Richie said in greeting as he walked in the door. “So, why didn’t you and the little woman come work out together?”

“She wasn’t in her room when I called to see if she wanted to join me,” Jon answered.

“That’s probably because she was down here working out,” Richie told him. “At least if that was about twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah,” Jon said, as he pushed a button to speed up the treadmill.

“I saw her down here when I came to see if you were working out. I was going to join you this morning.”

Jon laughed. “You? Join me for a work out? Has hell frozen over then?”

“Not exactly,” Richie answered.

Jon recognized the tone in Richie’s voice. “So what was the fight about this time?”

“She told some damn reporter that I cheated on her. My publicist called me about it this morning. It’s all over the gossip rags.”

“Rich, don’t worry about it. We’ll deal with it,” Jon assured his friend.

“I just don’t understand why she’d lie about this shit,” Richie said. “I loved her Jon. I never cheated on her.”

“I’ll tell you why she’s lying,” Jon told him, even as he continued jogging. “Her career’s in the toilet. Hell, the only reason she’s had any kind of a career the last few years is because of the loyalty of our fans. They’ve went to see her movies and watched that stupid television show she was in because she was married to you. Now that she’s filed for divorce our fans are showing their loyalty to you, and she hoped to get some sympathy by making you look like the bad guy.”

“Jon,” Richie began.

Jon interrupted him, “Trust me, Rich. I’m the professional PR person in the room. That’s what she’s up to, and the people who care about you won’t believe it.”

With his hand closed into a fist, Jon raised it into the air. Richie didn’t hesitate; he touched his own fist to Jon’s.

“Okay, enough about my shitty love life,” Richie grinned, “how’s yours going?”

“Honestly,” Jon shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Eventually, I’m going to have to tell her my secret, and I don’t think she’ll handle it well.”

“Why? Because Cecilia didn’t handle it well?” Richie asked. “Hell, Jon, not all women would react like that.”

“And there’s the little fact that she’s a reporter,” Jon pointed out. “There’s no guarantee that she won’t put it in her article.”

“Sure there is,” Richie told him. “If she put it in her article or told anyone they’d think she was crazy.”

“You didn’t think I was crazy when I told you,” Jon pointed out.

“I was falling down drunk when you told me,” Richie said, chuckling, “and if you’ll recall I made you prove it to me. And I’m sure you’re not going to show those fangs to everyone she tells to prove she’s telling the truth.”

Jon stepped off the treadmill. “You’re absolutely right. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re too concerned with telling her, and you’ll come up with any excuse to keep from having to do it.”

“Did you see that?” Jon asked, sounding very serious.

“What?”

“That flash of brilliance,” Jon laughed.

Richie smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say brilliance. It’s just that I know you better than any other human on the planet.”


Richie went off to find some breakfast, and Jon finished his work out. When he got back to his room, he had some phone calls to make; the business of running a music management company and all the charitable organizations he was involved in just wouldn’t wait.

Two hours later, Jon and the rest of the band members were at the venue for sound check. Mac sat alone in the back of the arena observing the various crew members going about their duties and the guys doing more goofing off than actual work. Scribbling notes, she caught herself laughing at their occasional shenanigans. For the most part, David, Tico, Richie and even Hugh laughed and joked, but every once in awhile Jon would get them to play a few notes of a song when he wasn’t joining in the fun. She realized they were really just big kids who occasionally pretended to be adults and decided to use that line in her article.

With her head bent, she was writing notes in a small notebook, when someone sat down in the seat next to her on the end of the row. Looking up, her gaze met Jon’s light blue eyes.

“Ya’ll done?” she asked, smiling.

He leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the seat in front of him. “Almost. Just got a few more things to work out. Obie’s working on a small sound problem.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping him?”

“Maybe,” he answered, lacing his fingers together across his muscled abdomen, “but I’d rather be here with you.”

“Really?” she asked, giving him a mischievous grin. He watched as she laid one hand on his knee, then sexily walked her fingers up his thigh. “I’d rather be somewhere else with you. Like back in your hotel suite.”

He caught her wandering hand in one of his. “I’ve created a monster,” he laughed, “don’t start something here that you can’t finish.”

She let out a throaty chuckle that almost made him squirm in his chair. “We can finish this later, right?”

“Not ‘til after the show,” he told her, “I’ll be way too busy until then. And we need to talk.”

“About?”

“Us,” he answered, “there’s a few things I need to tell you.”

“Like what?”

“Just some stuff,” he hedged.

“I was thinking about going back to the hotel when you sat down,” she told him. “Will I see you before the show?”

“I’m probably going to be here the rest of the day, but stop by the dressing room when you get here tonight,” he told her. He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “I’ll see you then,” he said, as he stood up.

Mac caught her self staring at his ass as he walked away. Shaking her head to dispel images of the night before, she gathered her things and then left the venue. She walked the few blocks back to the hotel, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city.

She was walking in the door of her suite when her cell phone started ringing. Tossing her things down on the table by the door, she started digging in her purse. She finally came up with the phone. She flipped it open and answered it without even looking to see who it was.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Girlfriend, how’s it going?” Sandy asked.

“Hey, Sandy,” Mac greeted enthusiastically. “Everything’s okay. The guys are really nice, and you were right, they’re all gorgeous.”

“I told you,” Sandy quipped. “Have you gotten me a pair of Richie’s underwear yet?”

“Uh,” Mac grinned, “I thought you were kidding about that.”

“You know me,” Sandy said, seriously, “do you really think I was kidding?”

“No,” Mac laughed. “But I’ll be honest with you, I have no intention of asking him for a pair of underwear for you.”

“Who said anything about asking?”

“I’ll get you an autograph,” Mac assured her.

“And are you getting along okay with the guys?” Sandy asked casually.

“Yeah,” Mac answered, “although, at first Jon was a complete ass.”

“Really?” Sandy was surprised. “That doesn’t sound like him. He’s usually very charming for interviews and such.”

“We’ve come to an agreement,” Mac said, blushing. Thank goodness, Sandy couldn’t see it.

Unfortunate for Mac, Sandy recognized the tone of voice. “You’re blushing!” she crowed. “You’ve got it bad for the rock star. Admit it.”

“Yeah,” Mac answered, softly. “He’s pretty amazing, and he’s hot too.”

“And married,” Sandy added.

“What?” Mac choked out.

“Didn’t you know? I thought I told you that,” Sandy replied. “Tico and Jon are married, but David and Richie just went through really nasty divorces.”

While her friend rambled on, Mac started to fume. How could he talk about a relationship between the two of them, and not mention that he was married? Why the hell didn’t she think to ask him that question before she slept with him?

“Mac? Are you listening to me?”

“Uh,” she answered, “no, sorry, Sandy. My mind wandered. I’ve got lots of work to do for the article. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” She hung up the phone before Sandy even had time to answer.

What the hell had she been thinking? A married man for crying out loud!


*************************



Mac spent the rest of the day pacing the floor of her suite. At one point, she went to her laptop and opened her media player, put on one of her favorite play lists, a mix of country and old rock and roll, and sat down in a chair by the floor to ceiling windows to fume. She had sat there for so long that the room was dark, the only light provided by the twinkling lights of Seattle and the screen saver of her laptop. Sitting in the dark, she heard Pat Benatar’s voice on her laptop.


Your love is like a tidal wave, spinning over my head.
Drownin’ me in your promises, better left unsaid.
You’re the right kind of sinner, to release my inner fantasies.
The invincible winner, and you know that you were born to be

You’re a heartbreaker
Dream maker, love taker
Don’t you mess around with me.


Leave it to Pat to pretty much hit the nail on the head. Mac realized she was so angry because she had let herself start falling for him. Hell, there was no let to it. She’d really had no choice in the matter. He was the ‘right kind of sinner to release her inner fantasies’ and most certainly ‘a heartbreaker’. Pat was still singing on her laptop.


Your love has set my soul on fire, burning out of control
You taught me the ways of desire, now it’s taking it’s toll.

The ‘toll’ was falling in love with a married man, and Mac didn’t want to be involved with a man with a wife.

“So, as Pat said, Bon Jovi ‘don’t you mess around with me’,” she announced to the empty room.

‘Pat’ answered her with...


You’re a heartbreaker,
Dream maker, love taker
Don’t you mess around... no, no, no.


In aggravation, she closed the media player on her laptop. Briefly, she wondered how late it had gotten, but the knock on the door between her suite and Jon’s answered the question for her. It was late enough that the show was over.

Mentally bracing herself for the battle to come, she announced, “Come in, Bon Jovi.”

Jon opened the door and saw her sitting in the dark, silhouetted against the lights of the city. She had her legs crossed at the ankles, her feet comfortably propped in another chair in front of her. “You didn’t come to the show,” he said softly, as he walked toward her, “you feeling okay, Dallas?”

“Nope,” she said harshly.

“What’s wrong?”

She smiled grimly in the dark. “I’m pissed.”

Jon started a check list in his head of all the things she could be pissed about. He didn’t think she could’ve found out he was a vampire between that afternoon and now. But, if she was angry why wasn’t she pacing the floor and waving her arms in the air like he had seen her do before? This wasn’t the explosion of her temper he had gotten used to. No, this was a quiet, controlled anger, laced with pain. Something had hurt her. He wanted to slip into her head and see what it was, so he could fix it, but her next words stopped him.

“There are a few details that you left out,” she said coldly. “Like, the fact that you have a wife.” She tossed the last word at him like an insult. A dirty word.

He noticed her laptop sitting in front of her. Had she ‘googled’ him? No, then she wouldn’t have just said wife, she would have said kids as well. How had she found out? A one word answer popped into his head. Sandy. He had been planning on telling her the truth tonight. The whole truth. He wanted to clear the air and keep no more little secrets, dirty or otherwise, but now the truth sounded like a lie to cover his ass. Even to him.

“You’re quiet. What? Are you scrambling for an excuse?” she asked angrily, but Jon could hear the underlying pain in her voice.

“No,” he answered softly. “I was trying to decide whether or not you would believe the truth.”

“The truth? Do you even understand the concept?”

Ouch. He winced in the dark, as that barb hit home. “Can I turn on a light, so we can discuss this?”

“No,” she answered, icily. “I don’t wanna have to look at you.”

He winced again. She was real handy with the barbs tonight. “Mac, I’ve never lied to you,” he tried.

“Technically, no,” she told him, “but a lie by omission is still a lie. So, what else have you left out?”

He could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn’t just mean his secrets, but she was also having second thoughts about the compliments he had given her. “I meant everything I’ve ever said to you, Mac, I swear.” He ran his fingers through his already rumpled hair. What could he say?

“Get out,” she ordered.

“I don’t wanna leave you like this,” he told her.

“It’s your fault I’m like this,” she said angrily.

“Mac,” he pleaded, “we need to talk about this. Please.”

At the tone in his voice, she almost relented. It was a good thing she hadn’t let him turn on a light, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to resist the look on his face.

“Jon, just get out,” she told him, her voice cracking slightly.

The tears he heard in her voice shook his resolve. “All right,” he regretfully agreed, “but we’re going to talk about this. Maybe not tonight. But we will talk about this.”

He turned and walked out the door, but Mac didn’t watch him go. Her eyes never left the beautiful view of the city outside her window.