Free Her Devoted Vampire by Siobhan Muir Page B

Baptist.”
    Cynthia gave
her a compassionate look. “Did you ever feel good as a child? You know,
comfortable and happy some place, as a kid?”
    “Yeah,
those summers in
Michigan
were the best. Free to roam through the big trees, or play in the lakes or even
just sit in the cleared meadows and fields, telling stories and weaving flower
crowns.”
    Cynthia
smiled and sniffed again. “Wow, you smell really good, like the forest after a
hard rainstorm or a meadow of cherry trees in the spring when the blooms come
out.”
    “Stop,”
Bridget said with a frown. “Why do you keep sniffing at me like that?”
    “Two
reasons, actually.” Cynthia winked. “The first is werewolves are very similar
to their canine counterparts, and smelling everything tells us a lot about
what’s really going on. And second, I know it annoys the hell out of you, which
makes you smell more like a forest fire, all hot, smoky, and singed.”
    “You’re
so weird,” Bridget said after a moment, but Cynthia’s grin was infectious. “I’m
not going to break you of this delusion, am I?”
    “’Fraid
not, m’dear,” Cynthia told her cheerfully. “Nor Fredrick, either.” Then her
smile faded. “I’m not sure why your door was locked, though.”
    Anger
returned in a rush. “Try asking Miss Verto Vawdge who brought the last tray of
goodies. First she insulted me, then locked me in.”
    Cynthia
shook her head in confusion. “Fredrick didn’t mention anything about you being
locked in. You’re welcome to explore the house whenever you feel like it. I’ll
speak to Miss Vértolvaj and remind her of Fredrick’s instructions.”
    “I gave
her a message to give to Mr. MacGregor,” Bridget said crisply. “If she hates it
so much that I’m here, perhaps she can convince him he should let me go back to
my quiet existence in Boston as soon as is convenient.”
    “Yes,
she does have a rather low opinion of humans.” Cynthia’s eyes strayed to the
clothes. “Oh, these are for you. I had to estimate your size. I hope they fit.”
She handed the pile to Bridget.
    “Thanks,”
she said taking them. “Did my coat survive?”
    “I’m
sorry. It was ruined by the blood.”
    A vague
memory of a bloody shawl flashed across her mind’s eye as disappointment out of
proportion to the loss overwhelmed her. She’d loved that coat, and the destruction
of it just added to the ridiculousness of her week. Tears sprang to her eyes,
and her breath caught in her throat.
    Over a stupid coat? Get a hold of yourself!
    Her
favorite coat, her favorite coffee shop, and a lousy, cheap book. Rather than
explain anything to Cynthia, she just leaned back against the pillows and
closed her eyes again.
    Cynthia’s
hand settled on her arm and warmed her right through the sweatshirt. “I’m sorry
this is so difficult for you. I don’t really know why Fredrick wants you to
stay, but I know it’s really important to him, otherwise he would’ve let you go
when you ran.”
    “But I
don’t know any of you, and he wouldn’t let me go when I asked. Why would that
make me want to stay?” Bridget asked in a very quiet voice as she opened her
eyes.
    Cynthia
sighed. “It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t work with me that way, either. Fredrick went
the wrong way about this whole thing. It’s just that he had a vision of you in
danger, and he’s determined to protect you.”
    “Why?
Who am I to him? Why does he even care what happens to me? I’ve never seen him
before last night in the coffee shop.”
    “All I
know is he said he had a vision of you.”
    “A
vision.” Bridget raised an eyebrow. “Like he’s a psychic.”
    “Yes.”
    When the
dark haired woman said nothing more, Bridget exclaimed, “Oh, come on! It’s hard
enough to believe in the whole werewolf-vampire thing, but a psychic vampire ? Give me a break!” She
crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.
    “What’s
so hard to believe about the existence of a psychic vampire?”
      “I don’t know.