Chapter Thirteen

For once, Jon woke before Mac the next morning. He lay there for several minutes, just watching her sleep. He was worried about the vamp in Portland. What had that been about? He glanced at his watch; maybe it was time to make that call to Kristoff. He’d been putting it off, figuring there would be an argument between him and Mac, once Kristoff told him the answers to his questions. Jon didn’t know the answers for sure, but his gut told him that Mac wasn’t going to like what his friend had to say.

Carefully, he got out of bed and went to his own room to call his friend.



When Mac woke, she was disappointed to find Jon already awake and gone. She hoped he hadn’t gone too far, and that he had ordered her a Dr. Pepper from room service. Stretching, Mac realized muscles she didn’t even know she had were tender. Deciding on a hot shower, she climbed out of bed.

When she got out of the shower, Mac wrapped herself in her fluffy terry cloth robe. She padded barefoot into the sitting room of her suite and was surprised to find the door to Jon’s suite open. She could hear him talking to someone in what sounded like Russian. After not hearing anyone else’s voice, she decided he must be on the phone.

Quietly, she walked into the sitting room of his suite. Jon was sitting in a chair at the little table with his back to her and his head in his hand. He didn’t sound too thrilled with whatever the other person was saying.

"Da, Kristoff," she heard him say, just before he looked up at her. His smile seemed strained to her as he finished the conversation and flipped his cell phone closed.

"Bad news?" she asked, crossing the room to sit in the other chair at the table.

"Yeah, sort of," he answered.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," he told her, "but we need to."

Mac wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. "Was that Russian?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Kristoff speaks English, but he insisted it was my turn to speak Russian."

"Wow," she said, smiling, "English, Italian, and now Russian, I had no idea you were multi-lingual."

"It’s not something that’s common knowledge," he told her, "but when you’re as old as I am, you have plenty of time to learn several languages."

Mac figured she had put off the bad news as long as possible. "So, what did Kristoff have to say?"

"He’s the vamp friend I told you about that I could call to get answers to our questions," Jon told her. He knew she wouldn’t be happy with the information he had gathered. Kristoff had told him all he needed to know and more. His friend had been happy to hear that he had finally found his life mate. Jon had been surprised to find out that Maria had not wanted to be turned either, but her love for Kristoff had eventually changed her mind. Jon hoped he could get that lucky with Mac, but he’d have to get her to love him first.

"And?" she asked, grinning. Obviously, Jon wasn’t through stalling.

"Shit," he exclaimed, raking his hand through his hair. "You’re not going to like this, Mac."

"Well, then let’s get it over with," she told him softly.

"Uh, first of all, Kristoff congratulated me on finding you and said he couldn’t wait to meet you," he replied.

"Why do I hear a but in there?"

"Because there is one," he told her, leaning back in the chair, his eyes meeting hers. "Mac, you and I just being together is not enough to save me. We have to go through the binding ceremony, and to do that you have to be a vampire," he said it all in a rush, then sat waiting on the explosion of her temper.

But, no explosion came. Mac calmly stated, "Well, then, Jon, it’s been nice knowing you," she stood up, and started across the room. "I believe I have enough material to finish my article. After tonight’s show I’ll be going back to Dallas."

In a flash, Jon was across the room and grabbing her by the arm. "You’re kidding, right?"

"Nope," she answered, "I have no desire to be turned into a vampire. Hell, I have enough trouble fitting in as it is."

"And, you’d just casually walk away from what we have?" he asked, pain in his voice.

"And, what exactly is that, Jon?" she asked, her voice rising with her temper. "Great sex?"

"Damn it, Mac," Jon exclaimed, pulling her toward him. "We have more than that."

"Do we?"

"I need you, Mac," he told her.

That wasn’t exactly what Mac wanted to hear. She realized that she wanted him to want to be with her because he cared about her, not because he needed her. It sounded like she was the lesser of two evils. Insanity or spending eternity with her.

"That may be, Jon, but do you want to be with me? Do you care about me at all?" she asked, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Mac," he placated, "how can you doubt that I want you?"

"Don’t turn this around to sex, Jon," she warned. "I don’t doubt that you want me. You’ve made that perfectly clear. But, do you care about me?"

"Of course I care about you," Jon exclaimed, "I don’t love you, yet. But, I’m sure I could. Let’s explore what I do feel," he began to count off the points on his fingers, " Jealousy. Hell, I was jealous of Richie. Possessiveness. You’re mine, Mac, and I won’t let you go."

"You can’t keep me here against my will," she told him, angrily.

"Maybe not," he grinned, "but I can follow you wherever you go."

"Would you?"

"Hell yeah," he answered.

"You realize, of course, that would be considered stalking, and that’s illegal," she told him.

"Mac, please don’t go yet," he pleaded. "Give us a chance."

She looked up at him. He looked so beautiful, wearing nothing but the gray sweat pants he had on the night before, his hair rumpled from sleep, and standing there basically begging her not to go. No man had ever begged her not to leave him. Hell, she had never left a man before. She thought about the pleasure they had shared the night before. Funny, she couldn’t remember anything after that explosive orgasm. Suddenly, she blushed to the roots of her hair. "Did I pass out last night?"

Jon blinked at the sudden change in topic, but then seemed to grow a few inches in height as he proudly beamed at her. "Yes, ma’am," he answered, nodding and giving her a self-satisfied smirk. "Want to again?"

"Quit changing the subject to sex," she ordered, exasperated.

"I didn’t that time," he told her, still smirking. "You did."

How could she resist him? There was no way. She just wasn’t strong enough to walk away from him, even if, she couldn’t keep him permanently without becoming something she didn’t want to be. Mac was afraid she was already falling in love with him.

"I’ll stay a little longer," she conceded.

"I’ll take what I can get," Jon said, smiling at her. He was sure he could convince her to stay with him permanently. He just had to figure out a way.

Jon spent the rest of the day working out, not physically. Mentally. Somehow, someway, he had to make her want to stay with him. He finally decided he would use every weapon at his disposal. He would even use her desire for him against her, if he had to.


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


That afternoon he was at the venue for sound check. He and the guys had just finished going through their paces and he was going back to his dressing room, when Richie fell into step beside him.

"What’s bothering you, Kidd?" his friend asked.

"The problem is so huge, I don’t even know where to start," Jon told him, as he continued walking.

"I hate to sound cliche here, Jon, but maybe at the beginning would be a good place to start," Richie suggested.

Jon glanced around the passageway of the venue. "Yeah, but we better wait ‘til we get to my dressing room."

"Isn’t Mac in there?" the guitarist asked.

"No, and that’s part of the story," Jon told him.

"Aw shit, I shoulda known it was woman troubles," Richie groaned.

"You act like women have always been a problem for me," the singer replied, "and that couldn’t be farther from the truth."

"See, that’s your problem now," Richie explained, just as they reached the door of Jon’s dressing room. "You’ve always had it so easy with women that you have no idea how to handle a few hurdles."

"Oh, this is a little bigger than a mere hurdle," Jon said, "this can only be called a hurdle if Everest can be called a hill."

The two men walked into the dressing room, and Jon casually closed the door. "That bad, huh?" Richie asked.

Jon explained the situation, even telling Richie about the phone conversation with Kristoff. He finished with, "But, Mac doesn’t want to be a vampire. She has said that more than once, and stressed it again this morning. Hell, she almost left when I told her what Kristoff said."

"Has she said what it is that makes her not want to be a vamp?" Richie asked. "Because, trust me, if I was offered eternal youth, I would jump at the chance."

"No, you wouldn’t," Jon told him, shaking his head, "it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Rich. I’ve explained that to you."

"I know, Jon," Richie said, grinning, "ten years ago, you made it perfectly clear what I’d be getting into if you changed me. And, you’ve assured me over and over again that I made the right choice when I said thanks but no thanks. I didn’t wanna live longer than my daughter or out live my wife by a few hundred years. Of course, the wife issue isn’t exactly an issue anymore, is it?"

"And, I didn’t even go into the rules that we all follow or risk the wrath of the Council either," Jon said quietly.

"Oh yes," Richie sighed dramatically, "the mysterious Council."

"Don’t joke," Jon cautioned. "They’re real, I’ve stood before them and been judged before, and I was scared shitless. But, that was before Kristoff sat on the Council."

"You never told me that before," Richie accused.

"I staked a fellow vamp, Rich, I had to go before the Council and explain my actions."

"Really?" Richie was surprised.

"It was about 130 years ago, in Lincoln County, New Mexico. A vampire friend of mine viciously killed a saloon girl. He had gone rogue, completely insane with blood lust. I knew he did it, and I hunted him down and staked him. When the Council found out what I had done, I was summoned to them and judged," Jon told him.

"Lincoln County, New Mexico? Isn’t that where Billy the Kid was from?" Richie asked.

"No, Billy wasn’t from there, but that’s where he became famous," Jon answered. Richie noticed that just like every other time Jon had mentioned the famous outlaw, he did so now with a kind of familiarity, like he’d known him personally. "The Lincoln County War is what made The Kid famous."

"You knew him, didn’t you?" Richie asked.

"Yeah," Jon answered, smiling. He had often wondered when Richie would ever get around to asking that question. "I rode with him, not very long, but long enough to make friends with him."

"Ah," Richie nodded in understanding, "so Young Guns was a..."

Jon interrupted him, "A complete historical fallacy. There were a hell of a lot of factual inaccuracies in that movie, and I for one know that for sure."

"Okay, Jon, I just gotta know," Richie said, excitedly, "was Brushy Bill Roberts really Billy the kid?"

"I have no idea," Jon answered, "I never met Brushy Bill."

"Oh man, what a let down," Richie sighed.

"I can tell you, that I ran into Billy in El Paso after Garret supposedly shot him," Jon told him. "He was who told me where I could find the vampire. I had tracked him to El Paso, but wasn’t sure where to find him in town once I got there. Billy had been in town for a few months hiding out, so he was overly cautious and very aware of any strangers that rode into town."

"Holy shit," Richie breathed.

Into the silence that fell after Richie’s amazement, Jon said softly, "She doesn’t wanna drink blood."

"Okay, yeah," Richie nodded in understanding, "Everest is anything but a hill."

Jon froze. That loud crackle seemed to fill his ears, as static electricity raced down his spine.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, as he hurried to the door. He flung it open and ran into the hallway, looking quickly in every direction. A few crew members walked by and eyed him curiously, but no one else was in sight.

"Jon?" Richie questioned from inside the room.

Jon walked back into the room and closed the door with a soft click. Looking at Richie with dread filled eyes, he said angrily, "He’s here. Somewhere. That fucker is here."

"Who?"

"The vamp from Portland," Jon answered, "he’s here."