Page 60 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

He wasn’t either.

Finally, they got to the underground garage, obviously a new addition to the castle, and it was massive. He could only imagine Vikar supervising the work on this project, cursing and complaining the whole time at yet another of the seemingly endless improvements or restorations needed for the castle.

At least six dozen vehicles were parked there, lots of SUVs and pickup trucks, and a few luxury sedans, like a BMW and a Lexus. Even some motorcycles.

“All of them are black or dark-colored, I notice. Designed not to attract attention?” he asked.

“Right. Although, being located in a town known for flaunting its vampire character, being invisible almost makes us more visible.”

There was an odd logic in her illogic.

“Why would vangels need motor vehicles, if they can teletransport?”

“Vangels only teletransport in emergencies. We’re encouraged to use modern methods, wherever possible. Cars, trucks, trains, planes. And not just to appear normal to humans, but because teletransporting drains a vangel of energy.”

He’d known that, actually. He was just making conversation. Moving on to another subject, he remarked, “Seriously, Regina, why didn’t someone mention to me that you vangels would have archangels covering your backs in the fight against Jasper and his hordes? That puts a whole new perspective on the chances for success.”

She shook her head. “They’re only here as advisors. Once Michael leaves, they will, too.”

“So, no hometown advantage? A heavenly second team waiting in the background?”

“None,” she answered.

They emerged through a series of tunnel-like corridors, reinforced with steel (more kudos to Vikar and his renovating efforts), up some concrete steps, and out onto the back lawn, beyond the swimming pool. Normally, on a warm day like today . . . mid-September, but balmy weather . . . there probably would have been children and some adults in the still-open pool and surrounding patio, taking advantage of the last days of what was known as “Indian Summer.” But, in deference to the pandemonium out in the world and Michael’s visit here, almost everyone seemed to be staying inside. Except for some vangel gardeners working on landscaping. Zeb could hear a lawn mower in the distance. Still others were using nets to clean the pool and hose down the patio. And wait . . . in the distance, a field held dozens of vangels, who wore leather armor, practicing swordplay. They would all transform into fighting men and women, when called to battle, even the gardeners and pool boys.

When they got to the gazebo, Regina sat down on a cushioned wicker chair and motioned for him to do the same in an opposing one. He was, frankly, glad to get off his feet. All the vangel blood he’d been given had improved his health immensely, but he was still not back to normal, and he felt it in his weary, battered bones. His ribs, especially, were aching and his feet hurt from all the walking he’d been doing in the castle since he awakened this morning. He would need several more vangel “transfusions” today, and tomorrow, too.

Maybe Regina would . . .

No, he couldn’t go there, not with the new betrothal business.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and just relished the peacefulness of the setting. He hadn’t felt so calm and hopeful . . . and clean, truth to tell, inside and out . . . since the days when he’d owned his own small vineyard and had been satisfied with just a modest harvest and enough wine to sell to take care of his family. But this was not Israel. And the scent was not of grapes, but late-blooming roses filling the air, except for the occasional wafts of cinnamon.

“Are you smelling rain?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh, yeah.”

He’d been expecting her answer, but still it bothered him. He wasn’t sure why. It was amazing to him that he could be so opposed to a union with this woman . . . any woman, really . . . but so attracted to her scent. “So, what’s this lemonade idea of yours?”

“We could be partners. Vangel partners. Combine our talents. Brainstorm ideas. Fight side by side. I could see that working.” There was excitement in her voice.

Ambitious wench! “Batman and Robin? Mulder and Scully? Holmes and Watson?”

She smiled. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“You think I’m a vangel, then?”

“What else?”

“I still don’t have shoulder bumps. I checked when I showered this morning.”

“Stop fixating on wings. None of us have wings so far, except maybe Vikar who flew one time when Michael helped him escape from Jasper.”

“I’m looking for proof, that’s all. Shouldn’t I feel different if I’m a vangel?”

“Different how?”

“Gooder.”