Mile High with a Vampire - Episode 13

In this episode we learn Tomato has a twin and he's been here the entire time, We also learn that the whole debate I had about multiple life mates was thrown a curve ball that I seriously doubt that the author Lyndsay Sands thought about all the implications of. Another sexless episode of the Vampire Sex Book. 

Transcript

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Welcome back to Storytime with Uncle Beambag Mile High with the Vampire Episode and Chapter thirteen. Which part of full time protection at the enforcer house did you people not understand? Quinn closed her eyes as that bellow increased the pain crashing around her head. She'd only woken up moments ago and had immediately been confused by both the fact that her head hurt and that she was cradled in Jet's arms. I guess that was Jet saying it, so I probably should have said it in a crupper voice. As he carried her into the enforcer house, she hadn't noticed that the rest of the members of the shopping party were following them until Jet had stopped abruptly in the entry, and the others had slid past and fenned out around them. Now she had turned her head to scowl at the man who was the reason Jet had stopped and at the source of the bellowing that had such detrimental effect on the pain hammering inside of her skull at the moment. It probably wasn't Jet, I think it was Lucian now. Lucian Argento. He'd obviously returned from up north while they were shopping. Pity, she thought, laying her head warily back on Jet's shoulder. It was pounding like crazy, almost enough that she could ignore the aches and pains that seemed to be plaguing her entire body. God, she felt like she'd been hit by a bus, Quinn thought, her nose twitching as she noticed that Jet smelled good, which wasn't new, he always smelled good to her. But at the moment he smelled especially yummy, she thought, inhaling deeply. Again, the smell thing is such a weird concept to me. Like I know I remember what things that's not true. I remember liking how things smelled. I was about to say I remembered what things smelled like, but I don't. I've talked about it in previous episodes, me being a nosmic and losing my sense of smell, but it's so closely tied with memory that I can't honestly remember how anything actually smelled. And the only way you can really describe a smell is with another smell. Kind of like how you can only really describe a taste with another taste. And it's all just gone. So my my memory is just fucking weird about it. Like one of the women that I was with, I remember, had this shampoo that smelled super good. And so when she would use it, and then we would, you know, lay down next to each other in bed to go to sleep, it was a really nice scent to drift off to. But I can't remember what the fuck it was, can't remember what any of it smelled like. Nowadays, when I just get like people asking about scents or stuff, I'm I have no idea. I work around a lot of chemicals too, and people are like, Oh, do you smell that? Oh, hey, you know, or I'll come back and like, oh, the back of your car smells like gasoline. I'm like, it does? I can't if it's strong enough, I can kind of maybe ta taste it, but smelling is just right out for me. This is my fault, Lucien, Marguerite said, Oh, fuck me. Lindsay, God, fuck. I'm not even a page in, and I was really hoping to avoid that for this entire chapter. Nope. Of course we didn't. Solemnly. Marguerite said solemnly, drawing Quinn's attention from how nice jet smelled. Mary mentioned that Quinn had lost their luggage in the crash and had nothing but the clothes on their back, so I thought we should take them out to get more, and that's not true, Sam said it once. Thank you, Marguerite, but she turned to Lucian. I'm actually the one who suggested the shopping trip in order when Mary mentioned that they lost their luggage. I but I thought it would be fine, Marguerite interrupted and told Lucian. We took foreign forces with us. There were eight of us all together to protect Quinn. The foreign forcers of Jet Mary, Sam and me. Jet's not gonna do much protecting against a vampire. I thought surely that it would be enough to dissuade anyone from trying anything. And you thought wrong, Lucian roared. I nearly lost all nine of you. If you're gonna yell at anyone, yell at me, Mortimer growled, coming up the hall from his office, slipping an arm around Sam when she moved to his side. I approve the trip and ultimately I'm responsible for nearly losing everyone, including my own lifemate, he added grimly, and then assured him, I'm surprised he didn't add fucking solemnly. It won't happen again. If I sound a little weird, it's 'cause I had a tooth pulled about a week and a half ago, and my jaw is well, it doesn't hurt constantly, but it's very tender, and so I it's kinda hard to talk, but I wanted to get this out before too late. Like I've already delayed a couple days because it was July 4th, you know, 250th anniversary of America's birthday and everything. But now I'm on July fifth in the morning recording this so I can get it out, at least on this Sunday. Quinn watched Sam lean up to press a kiss to Mortimer's cheek, and then she rested her head back on Jet's shoulder with a sigh, and being the easy show of affection, she wished she could just kiss Jet on the cheek like that, or neck, she thought, you can. It's your own hang ups that are preventing you from doing that. Unconsciously easing her nose a little closer to his throat and inhaling deeply again, God he smells so good, and she wanted to kiss and lick and she's also projecting this entire fucking thing to everybody. A gasp of shock slid from Quinn's lips when her head was suddenly yanked back by what she thought was a handful of her hair. Surprisingly enough it didn't hurt. It was the only thing that didn't hurt at the moment, she thought, as she heard several gasp around them, and then her attention refocused on Lucian as he snapped Get her a bag of blood before she makes a meal of jet. Quinn was aware of the movement around them as someone rushed to do his bidding, but she was busy staring at Lucian with mounting dismay, as she realized she very well might have been about to do just that. Oh, I see. See, I thought it was all lusble shit, but now she was wanting to drink 'em. Well, and lusable shit. Dear God, her fangs were out and she hadn't even felt them descend, realizing that Lucian was no longer scowling at her, but instead seemed to be looking at her hair, or at least what was something on her head with surprise, and what might even be concerned, she asked, What happened? But rather than answer, he took the bag of blood. Tibow was suddenly there offering and popped it on her fangs. Living room now, he ordered, releasing the hold he had on Quinn and turning to walk into the large living room across from the kitchen. Placing a hand at the base of the bag to prevent it from slipping off her fangs, Quinn leaned her head against Jet's shoulder again as he followed her the others into the living room. By the time they had settled on by the time they had settled her on the couch and he had seated himself next to her, the bag at Quinn's mouth was empty. The moment she pulled it from her fangs, Tiba was in front of her, taking the empty bag with one hand and offering her a fresh one with the other. Thank you, Quinn murmured and popped the bag to her fans and then glanced around the people situated around the room. They were all seated now, even Bailey was sitting between Mary and Dante. The dumb dog was staring adorably at Lucian, she noticed with disgust, but everyone seemed to be looking from her to Lucian than back. It made her shift uncomfortably and glanced down at the back of her mouth. Report, Lucian said abruptly, and several people started to speak at once. He immediately raised his hand, wore silence, and then pointed at Valerian. The blonde man sighed with resignation and said, Everything was fine in the beginning. We went to the mall and guarded Quinn when Francis was helping her pick clothes. He paused briefly and then grimaced as if not as if pleased not to have to admit it, but said, And then Thibo and I took the shopping bags back to the SUV while Russell escorted the women to the lingerie shop, and Francis and Jet went to get his clothes. But we were as quick as we could be, he number two added solemnly. But when we were at a couple of storefronts from the lingerie store where we were supposed to meet them, Russell came crashing out carrying Quinn. At first we thought they'd been attacked, his gaze slid to Quinn briefly and then back to Lucian. But they explained she'd fainted and hit her head when she fell, so we went back down to the parking garage. They tried to revive her, but when they hadn't been able to, by the time Jet and Francis caught up with us, we decided to head back here. There was another pause where he ran a hand through his hair, again seemingly reluctant to admit whatever was coming, but then he continued. We were all in the car about to leave when Jet suggested checking the vehicles for bombs. Jet did? Lucian growled. The mortal pilot thought of checking for bombs, not the immortal enforcers who were supposed to be the protectors. Yes, Valerian admitted unhappily. Lucian glowered at him briefly and then gestured for him to continue. Valerian cleared his throat and said, Tibo and I got out to look under the car and spotted a bomb under each vehicle. We immediately got everyone out of the SUVs and moved them back into the mall. We had no idea if or when the bombs would go off, so Tibo stayed by the elevators to prevent any mortals from going into the parking garage, and I ushered the others to the opposite end of the mall in case the cars exploded. Once I had them what I considered to be a safe distance from the danger zone, I called Mortimer. He sent out several enforcers, two immediately brought us back to the SUV two immediately brought us back Oh two immediately brought us back in the SUVs they arrived in. For some reason I was reading that it's two immediately brought us back to our SUVs. Which would be ridiculously stupid if there got bombs on them. And the other men stayed to handle the bombs. Lucian eyed the man narrowly and then his voice dangerously soft asked, You left your signpost guarding Quinn to take shopping bags to the car. That's my fault, Francis said before Valerian could respond. Valerian didn't want to leave Quinn, but I insisted he and Tybo oh, he's still Francis. It I didn't notice that it wasn't more the explanation. The way she structures her dialogue paragraphs are so fucking odd to me. They just don't line up quite right half the time. I don't know if that's how you're supposed to do it or not, but like in all the other books I've read, especially stuff like by Robert Jordan or uh Tolkien, the dialogue paragraph stuff doesn't look like this when it's written out. Anyways. It seemed a sensible thing to do. Russell would be with Quinn, as would all the women, and it would only be a few minutes and they'd be back with her. They wouldn't have been much good at protecting her with their arms full of bags anyways, he pointed out, and then added quickly. Not that she needed protecting, she wasn't attacked, but she apparently fainted. No, she was attacked. Immortals do not faint except after life mate sex, Lucian said dryly. That's what I thought too, but apparently that's what happened, Francis Francis assured him. Ask Russell. I do not understand it myself, Lucian, but it's what it looked like to me, Russell Russell. Who fuck is Russell? Russell assured him, then hesitated before admitting, I did not see anything that might have caused it. I was keeping an eye on people in the store, watching for trouble when I heard Marguerite called Quinn. I shifted my attention to the two women. Marguerite was rushing toward her with concern, and Quinn, he glanced around and frowned slightly. She was looking toward the front of the store with her hands on her head and then lowered her hands, took a turned, took a step, and just collapsed. Lucien gave a nod and then shifted his attention to Marguerite. Why were you concerned? What did you see? Not much, it was just Marguerite shrugged slightly. I called Quinn to come see a pretty little white lace panty and brasset with garters and matching stockings that I spotted. That does not need to be in the fucking sentence, Lindsay. I don't know why Marguerite's telling Lucian about the fucking panties and bra. It's just it's another weird thing. Like would Marguerite actually tell him about that for no fucking reason? She could have just said, Oh, I just called her to come over to me and then she painted. But she didn't seem to hear me. I called again louder, but she Marguerite frowned slightly. She suddenly covered her ears and stood there stiff and frozen, staring out the front window of the shop. I knew something was wrong. I tried to read her mind as I rushed towards her, calling her name. This time she seemed to hear me. Her hands fell away from her ears and she turned towards me, took one step, and then I'm not sure if she fainted, but she did drop, and I do mean drop, Marguerite assured him. She didn't fall, didn't stumble or chip, she just dropped. She finished helplessly, and then closed her eyes and shuddered as if seeing the moment again in her mind. Her head hit the floor of the crack and she was unconscious with blood pouring from the wound when I got to her, then everybody was surrounding us. It took several moments for Russell and the other women to control the shop girls, and other shoppers to send them away when we wrapped Quinn's head in that cotton nightgown. It used to be white, she added dryly. Eyes widening, Quinn raised a hand to her head and felt the wet cloth there. When she pulled her hand away it was covered in blood that must have been soaking the nightgown around her head. Apparently Lucian hadn't grabbed her by the hair, he grabbed her by the wrapping around her head, she realized. Marguerite continued. Russell handed Sam his phone and told her to call Francis and Jet and tell them to meet us at the SUV. Then Russell scooped up Quinn and we headed out the store, she shrugged. Valerian told you the rest. Lucian nodded in agreement but asked What did you find when you read her mind? Number three, but this one it's appropriate. Face solemn, Marguerite said, All I could hear was screaming. Quinn pulled the now empty bag from her fangs as Marguerite's words reminded her what had happened. She'd seen that man, she'd heard screaming. It seemed to come from all around her, but it had been loudest from right next to her, and that had sounded like Pet. What about Pet? Mary asked, drawing her attention to where the woman sat in the chair positioned next to the couch. Pet was screaming, she explained, and looked around expectantly. Where is she? Pet isn't here, Quinn, Mary said quietly. She's in Italy. But I heard her, she protested. Why was Pet screaming, Quinn? Mary asked, rather than addressing what she'd heard. I she paused, confusing Confusing Confusion filling her mind. I don't know. I saw the monster at the window and everyone was screaming, but I'm sure Pet was the one screaming besides me. Beside me. It sounded like Pet. I just so confusing and mixing that with confusion. No, I my brain's not functioning right now. Okay. Anyways, I read Confusion and my mind immediately went to Dragon Ball Z, where they have the fusion thing where the two guys do the right moves and then confuse into one more powerful bean. But then I started thinking about a fusion reactor. Just this is all within like a half a second. I started thinking about a fusion reactor that would be running on atomic fuel, but then a confusion reactor that would be running on random shit you throw into there. Kind of like Mr. Fusion from Back to the Future. But instead of like things that you could burn that way, you would just chuck in random shit and have interesting results. I might have to play with that a little bit later on. A confusion reactor could be kind of interesting for a story setup. What window love? No, this is Jet, finally. What window love? Jet asked, rubbing her back soothingly. In the shop window, she explained. Can you describe them to us? Mary asked. Quinn opened her mouth and then hesitated. All she could remember was a mean smile on black eyes with brass blacks. She heard Lucian murmur something and glanced over to Tibow and he rushed from the room. Quinn, Mary said softly, drawing her gaze back to her, can you tell us what happened, what you saw? Start a couple minutes before you saw the monster, she instructed. Quinn pit at her with confusion, wondering why Mary had called the man a monster, but then made herself think back and placed herself in the store again just before she'd seen the man. I had been selecting three pairs what no, what? Okay, before she'd a page break and it's formatted weird. Just before she'd seen the man she'd been, and then it goes into her actually talking, but it doesn't look like it did for a second. I had selected three pairs of the bra and panty set that sham sham. Who the fuck is Sham now? Sam had shown me I looked around to see if there was anything else I wanted, she recalled. But when I saw the man in the window and everyone started screaming, I heard Marguerite call my name and I didn't dare look away from the monster. I didn't know what to do, but then the woman stepped in front of me briefly when she moved she was gone. What? No, when she moved he was gone. The monster had gone? Mary asked. Yes, Quinn nodded. So I turned to see what Marguerite wanted and tried to go to her, but she shifted her gaze down to her body, remembering how it had betrayed her. It was as if every muscle inside of her had just abandoned ship, leaving her to plop to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. A rustle of sound drew her head up to see that Tabo had returned and was handing a pile to Lucian. He immediately stood and crossed the room and opened up the pile, pulling out a large photo. He held it in front of her. Was one of these men the one you saw outside the store window? Quinn stared at the two figures in the photo. It was obviously some kind of security shot. The men were in what could have been a bus station or an airport. There were people moving past with luggage. She scanned the two men who had circled with a red marker, her gaze moving quickly over the first man, but then stopping abruptly on the second as someone started screaming again, increasing the pain in her head that had already been building as she consumed the blood and the nanos started to repair the injury her bloodlots were prevented. Back in late 2002, I had friends who lived in Kansas, and they wanted me to come out. And I had no prospects going on in Salt Lake at the time. I could have, but I was a stupid uh 20-year-old. I wasn't even 21 yet at that point. I would be turning 21 like in two months, or not two months, two weeks. But they wanted me to come out and spend some time with them, and so you know, kind of made arrangements for me to come out and live with them for a while and get a job. And I went on a big long bus trip from Salt Lake City to Man no, was it Manhattan, Kansas? Yeah, it would have been Manhattan, Kansas that we went to. And the first twelve hours of it was getting into Denver, and then it was a little bit of layover, and then it was another 12 hours out from Denver to Manhattan. So it I didn't sleep the whole time, but speaking, you know, she's talking about it could be in a bus or an airport. It just reminded me in Denver, I it was middle of winter, and I was dressed in a Russian-style coat that I had made out of a Russian wool blanket with a new shonka and a military bag over my shoulder. I look like I was some kind of communist reject from the from the Soviet Union. And I go to step outside to smoke, and there's a bunch of older black gentlemen sitting there, and they see me, and one guy goes, Did you see it? And I turn on and look at him, and he was a dead ringer for Samuel L. Jackson. It looked almost exactly like him, and he's pointing directly at me, and he's like, Did you see it? Did you see it, motherfucker? And I'm like, I have no idea what the fuck's going on. I'm during the headlights look, you know, it's a 20-year-old white guy in Denver, and there's a guy behind him, he's clapping his hands and kind of like shaking his head back and forth, going, He saw it, I know he saw it. So I'm like, uh fuck. Okay, so I just keep walking on and light up my cigarette. And then as I'm walking away, the Samuel Jackson guy is like, Yeah, he saw it. Of course he saw it. Everybody fucking saw it. But it just reminds me of that, because that's where I had to spend an extended amount of time in the middle of the night, because it was like one o'clock in the morning when we got in there. And I don't like bus stations normally, but the bus station in Denver, I'll never forget that. Fucking confusing and funny. Feeling suddenly sick, Quinn pushed the pitcher away and stood up, intending to rush to the bathroom, but she didn't get that far. Lucian was blocking her way, and her legs decided to give out on her just as her stomach rebelled. She was already dropping when she began to spew, and watched it and watched I can't read it. It's written fine, I just can't read it. And she watched as if from a distance as she splattered vomit from Lucien's waist to his shoes before passing out. Now is it just bl vomit or is it blood? Quinn leaping to his feet. Jet caught her by the upper arms just before she landed on the floor, but she was limp, her body sagging in his hold. Ignoring or cursing Lucian, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her around the man, now staring down at his vomit covered clothes with disgust. As he left the room, Jet heard Tibos say, Well, I'm thinking that's a yes, it's the guy she saw. As if he weren't so worried about Quinn, Jet would have laughed at all the words, but he was worried about her so much that he didn't realize that anyone had followed him until he was nearly to the door to Quinn's room, and Marguerite rushed ahead to open it for him. Thank you, he murmured, carrying her inside. Wait, don't put her on the bed until we clean her up, Marguerite said, hurrying towards the door to the bathroom. There's nothing to clean up, Marguerite. She didn't get any vomit on herself, he assured her as she he reached the side of her bed and sat Jen quintly down on it. Sitting on the edge of the mattress he brushed her hair back from her face. When Marguerite came to stand next to him, he asked, What the hell's going on? Immortals don't faint except for new life mates during just in like half a chapter. I think this is the fourth time they've been saying that. Immortals don't faint except for life mates during sex. Immortals don't faint except for life mates during sex. Immortals don't faint except for sex with livemates. Immortals don't for the painting for the life mate for the sex for the things. Why are you repeating? Reading the same fucking line from all these different characters. All you gotta do is be like, what the hell's going on? This shouldn't happen. Immortals don't faint. That's all you gotta do, Lindsay. It's like you copy and pasted that same fucking line and put it in four different places for some reason. I suspect both were emotional responses rather than physical. Jet glanced around at the comment to see Mary and Sam entering the room. His gaze settled on Dante's wife. An emotional response to whoever she saw outside the store. Mary hesitated and then said, Perhaps, but I suspect it's bigger than that. I think seeing this man had sparked her memories and they're trying to come back. Can that happen? Jet asked with uncertainty. He said they were blocked or something. Now it remind it makes me wonder too, like, so I don't know if Quinn has physically physically. I don't know if Quinn has mentally blocked the memories of the attack. Petronella had never did. But I wonder if it's because it was so hard for Quinn to accept that whoever was there vampire-wise who showed up actually like sealed the memories for her to try to give her an out to get on with her life. Because she was pretty young during the attack. Blocked, not erased, Mary told him quietly. They're still there. Okay, well then this just explains exactly what I just theorized. Hypothesized? I guess hypothesis would be the better word for it. They're still there. Her brain blocked them as a defensive mechanism to her young mind from the trauma she endured when her mother and stepfather were murdered. Why would they come back after all this time? Jet asked. Mary shrugged. It could be because her brain has decided she's ready, but more likely it's because it realizes that her not remembering now is a threat to her well being. I'm surprised the nanos wouldn't have fixed it so she had the memories again when she was turned. No, this is not Jet. This is Sam who said that. Whatever. That's because you think that her repressing her memories is a sign of some kind of fault with her mind. I believe just the opposite is true, Mary said thoughtfully. I think she has a very strong mind. Well developed defenses. Not necessarily. But Pet went through the same thing and didn't have to block the memories to handle it, Sam pointed out. So she didn't have a stronger mind and defenses. Do not assume that just because they were both in the same room they had the same experience, Marguerite said quietly. I know that was one thing I had to kind of explain to my nephew when he was pretty young, because you could have five people in this in the same room seeing the exact same thing, and each one of them will remember it differently. And with my nephew, he would always remember things that the rest of us would just not remember, just because it's just the nature of human memory. And he gets so mad at us when we wouldn't he's pretty young, he's like five or six. He'd get so mad at us that we wouldn't remember exactly the way that he remembered it. And I had to explain that to him gently several times before he finally got it, that we weren't experiencing the same things he was, and our memories were operated just a little differently. Jet noted the exchange of glances Mary and Margaret had shared and then narrowed his eyes. You do know something we don't, don't you? There was another exchange of glances, then Mary admitted, We've known you and Quinn were lifemates pretty much from the start. What do you mean from the start? Jet asked uncertainly. From the moment four years ago when we brought her onto your plane, Margaret said softly. What? he stared at with amazement. I didn't even know then. How could you? Margaret has a certain skill at recognizing possible life mates, Mary said softly. She's put a lot of couples together and saw that you two have the same energy about you or whatever it is. She glanced at Margaret, who nodded that she got it right. Mary then continued. She told Pet and Abigail and they put their heads together to try to figure out a way to get the two of you together, but Quinn made it impossible. You went to every knot family shindig, Abigail invited you to, but Quinn refused to go. Worse yet, she became a shut-in. Mary paused briefly and then said, Of course, as twins, Tomasso and Dante are close. And we eventually got pulled into the scheming too. When Pet I didn't know they were fucking twins, so Dante and Tomato are twins. Interesting. When Pet found out I used to be a psychologist, she started talking to me about Quinn in the hopes that I could come up with an idea that might work. She started telling me about Quinn's marriage, how she had always been the dutiful daughter and so on. So even when she told me about the parents' deaths and that Quinn didn't remember it, and believed they'd been in a car accident. Of course I immediately suspected the deaths had something to do with why she was reacting so poorly to being turned. That still doesn't make any sense to me, Sam complained. Pat went through the same thing and actually remembers it, yet she has no problem accepting the turn and becoming immortal. Mary turned an amused eye to her way and suggested. Okay, let's look at it then. Sam nodded at once and apparently happy too. Mary opened her mouth but then closed it again, narrowing her eyes before asking, What exactly do you know about the death of Quinn's parents? All of it, I think. Mortimer told me that their stepfather was an immortal enforcer chasing some organization of rogues called the Brass Circle. The Brass Circle got wind that he was hunting them and murdered him and her and their mother and an older sister too. An older sister, oh boy. That's interesting. She prowned and then said, Or it might have been a cousin, she pursed his lips and asked, A cousin raised by their sister? Mary nodded. Right. Or a cousin raised as their sister. Mary nodded. Right, she said with relief. So anyways, Mortimer also said that Pat remembers everything Quinn doesn't he didn't mention how they survived, Marguerite asked. Oh yes, sorry, they're hiding in the closet. Their mother had put them there. If you're an immortal vampire who is hell bent I haven't read ahead yet. If you're hell bent on killing this family, two girls hiding in the closet are not going to escape your attention, especially if you can hear everything they're fucking saying or thinking. So there's gotta be some bigger reason to it. Well, you got the gist of the story, Mary said wryly, but the brass circle didn't just murder the rest of the family, they tortured them first, and the girls witnessed all of it. But I think the most important part of the story is that after finishing off the rest of the family, the head guy sent some other men to search for Quinn and Pet, and then apparently decided to search the room and found the girls hiding in the closet. Jet stepped into this news, imagining the torture and torment that must have been visited on the twins for Quinn to block it from memory. Pet said he had a mean smile and black eyes with brass splecks. That's how Quinn described the man she saw at the mall, Jet said at once. Mary nodded yes. Jet lowered his hair to peer at Quinn and asked sadly, What did he do to them? Nothing. What? Jet's head whipped around in disbelief. Yeah, see that's what I was figuring. Cause they just got away scot-free. My Oh I want to put this right, but I don't remember who it was. I have a great, great I don't think it's beyond that grandfather, who was during the Civil War, he was living in Kansas on a farmstead, and Quantrails raiders can't showed up. And this would have been around somewhere around Lawrence, Kansas. His mother hid him under the wash basin sink stand and told him to be quiet while they came and raided, and she got a bullet to her shoulder. She survived it. I don't remember if his dad survived or not. Um, but uh several of the other farmhands were killed and they burned the farm. And that's where they kind of were met by a Mormon relief party who happened to be in the area trend going back east, and they converted to Mormonism and came out to Utah from that. And so I'll have to go look at the records to figure out exactly which one that was. I think that was one of my it was definitely on my dad's side of the family, but I don't remember if it was my dad's side of the family or my grandpa's side of the family, you know, his dad, or my grandmother's side of the family. Well, not much anyways. Pet said she could feel the ruffling of his reading her mind, and then he grabbed her by the hair and turned to Quinn, and his gaze narrowed, but then widened and he looked shocked. She said they stayed like that for a while, him staring at Quinn and the girl staring back terrified, and one of the men returned and quickly released Pet's hair, stood and closed oh, and he quickly released Pet's hair, stood and closed the doors of the closet. She paused an arch and eyebrow as if to suggest that she should sort something out from that. And then not only did he reveal their presence in the closet to his men, but while they had planned to set their bodies on fire right in the room where they had killed them, which surely would have seen the girls dead, he ordered the men to take the bodies outside and burn them in the courtyard. So what the fuck is so special about Quinn? Did he look into her future and see all the times that Solemn would be around her and it drove him fucking mad? Because that's what it's doing to me, Lindsay. Quinn was obviously a possible life mate to this brass circle man. Oh fucking weird, okay. Quinn being what nine at the time? That's a little Jacob Renezme type shit. Was her name Renezme? I don't fucking care. Jet glanced to the door, his eyebrows rising when he recognized the tall blonde woman now entering Quinn's room. Basha, Sam stood and walked forward to hug her and greeting. I didn't know you were here too. The blonde hugger back explaining Marcus and I laid down to sleep on arriving. Well he slept. I was lying there unable to sleep, and then I heard you talking in here and decided to join you. I apologize for listening in, she had another one solemnly. She added solemnly. Margaret smiled with amusement at the apology as she took Sam's place to hug the woman. With a mortal hearing, it's impossible to hear the conversations not oh fuck me. Okay. With a mortal hearing, it's impossible not to hear the conversations in this house or any other. Hello, Basha dear, you know, Mary. I read that super weird, but okay. Mary and I met briefly at Cochrane. In Cochrane. She assured her and greeted the woman. Hello again, Mary. Hi, Mary said easily. It just it just plays off as awkward to me. It just sounds super awkward. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't fucking know, but it just sounds that way. And you know, Jet, Margaret added, turning towards him. Yes, Jet has piloted for Marcus to me many times, Basha said, offering a warm smile to him. Jet didn't return the smile. His mind was still on what she'd said as she'd entered. Quinn can't be that guy's lifemate, Basha. We're lifemates. What? No, I let me let me go back a couple paragraphs here. Yes, Jet has piloted for Marcus to me many times, Basha said, offering a warm smile to him. Jet didn't return the smile. His mind was still on what she'd said as she'd entered. Whoa, did I miss something? Oh okay. So the way all this is fucking bizarrely done. So Quinn was obviously a possible life mate to the brass circle man, is what Basha said as she entered. And then later on we get back down to Jet's stuff, and his mind was still on what she'd said as she'd entered. And then it's Jet talking, but the way it's written, it looks like it's Jet remembering what Basha said. And it's a totally different line. So this is Jet talking, but it's it's formatted super weird. Quinn can't be that guy's life mate, Basha. We're life mates. There is a moment of silence as the women exchanged glances, and then Margaret walked over and squeezed his shoulder. There have been occasions, many more than one would expect, where an immortal or mortal has been a possible life mate to more than one individual. This is what I was talking about with like the poly Um polyamory situation, I guess you would call it, where are you locked into one person or are there potential others? And then this also is super fucking weird because Quinn, being like a nine, ten-year-old girl, whatever, at the time, was a potential life mate to a guy who's thousands of years old. Now, had Quinn not been through this tragedy that she had just been through, waiting to seeing the torture and everything. Fuck. I don't I don't even like thinking about this part of the story because I don't think even Lindsay started thinking about it right. Because the lifemate shit, it's such a strong drive for them to be together and to fuck, and then this thousand-year-old guy ends up seeing that a nine-year-old is his life mate, and it shocks him, or a potential lifemate, completely shocks him, as well as should, and he just kind of leaves her alone and walks off. But had they not been in that traumatic type of situation, would the two of them be soon fucking? I don't like that implication at fucking all because she's a nine-year-old fucking girl. Ugh. That just gets into super creepy fucking territory that I don't even want to tread into. Fear shot down the back of his neck at the possibility of losing Quinn increased a hundredfold in his mind. Desperate to not believe it, Jet instinctively opened his mouth to protest again, but before he could say anything, Marguerite continued. We don't know for sure that she's a possible lifemate to him, but it would explain why he let the girls live. In fact, seems the only explanation. It would also explain why she blocked the memory where Pet didn't, Mary said quietly. It would? Sam asked, and then she shook her head. How? He didn't tell Quinn that they were possible life mates, or did he? And you left that part out. No, he didn't say that, Mary assured her. But Basha said another one. How many solemnies can you put in the fucking chapter, Lindsay? But Basha said solemnly, if he touched Quinn, she may have felt his awareness or attraction to him. Imagine how shattering that would have been when he was the monster who just moments earlier tortured and murdered her family. She wasn't nine years old, she was only six. Fuck, that's even worse. I mean not that a three year age difference is any better, but oh fucking hate all of this shit. She was only six, Jet snapped with disgust, as well you should. You can't think she see you can't think she experienced life mate passion for this bastard at six. I did not say there would be passion or desire, Basha said quietly, or that she would even understand what his touch invoked in her, but any kind of benevolent feeling it caused in her for him would have been anathema to a child who had just watched him torture and murder the people she had loved most in the world. Did Pet say he touched Quinn? Sam asked with a frown. No, Mary answered. She doesn't recall doing so, but was terrified six year old traumatic situation. Whoa, what? But she was a terrified six year old in a traumatic situation. And she admitted she was staring at his face, not his other hand, Mary told them. He may have reached where Quinn's arm or wrist without her seeing. In fact, it's more than likely he did. Jet shook his head. He didn't want to hear any of this. He didn't want to know what scared him more, that Quinn had another possible life mate, or the bastard was a murdering sicko who had found her again. That just touches back on the choice aspect of all this stuff, where do you have a choice to push away these desires when they hit you super strong? As an immortal. It's just so fucking convoluted. As I've talked about at length. So that she go back and reference it. I think she just made it up as she went, thinking, okay, this works good enough. And then when you start doing any type of stress testing on the ideas and everything, there's a lot of inconsistencies and a lot that doesn't work right. And you don't need massive lore dumps, but when you're writing something complex like this, you should work all of it out from all angles that you possibly can and have it as reference material to go back to whenever you need without telling the people everything. Because I'm sure people like Robert Jordan, there's so much that he wrote that never made it onto the pages because he needed the history and all of that together to reference later on. She would not choose him over you, Margaret said soothingly. Jet Frowned and asked, Do you believe this crap? He was hoping she didn't, and certainly begging her not to, and he supposed she read his mind in that because her expression was apologetic when she said I'm afraid I do. I believe that she did feel something when he touched her. Something she didn't understand but didn't like feeling, and that has shaped her life. Mary nodded. I think whatever she felt that day is the reason she blocked her memories because she couldn't bear to remember what kind of thoughts or feelings he inspired in her. Don't like this at all. I think that's also why she always been the dutiful daughter without a hint of the usual teenage rebellion, ashamed or terrified that she could have a benevolent thought or feeling for a monster. She was as good as she possibly could be to try to make up for it, and prove, if only to herself, that she wasn't a monster like him. And speaking of monsters, Margaret said, that is probably why she also sees herself as a monster now that she has been turned. She called him that when you asked her to tell us what happened, Jet said recalled warily. Yes, she called him a monster several times and didn't even seem to realize she had, Mary told him. When we called him a monster back to her, she was confused as to why we would. Mary also believes this is why Quinn has locked herself away for the four years since she was turned, Marguerite said. Because she is afraid if she doesn't, she could become a monster which she fears she may already be because of a possible life mate. He inspired something in her. I have no idea why the fuck you put this in here, Lindsay. Jet breathed. Everything the woman had said made sense. Quinn's reactions were perfectly reasonable when he explained like this. As much as he didn't want to, he also now believed that she was a possible life mate to this bastard as well as himself. It fit everything perfectly except then why is he trying to kill me? Jet oh no, that's Quinn. Then why is he trying to kill me? Jet swung around, his mouth dropped open when he saw that Quinn's eyes were open, and she'd obviously heard most of it, if not all of their conversation. She'd also asked this very question that he'd been about to ask if this monster was her lifemate, why was he trying to kill her? That is chapter thirteen. I know I said this on previous chapters, but I am very surprised at the astounding lax lack of sex in the vampire romance puck book. I'm trying to gather my thoughts together on what I just read. In Twilight, the explanation for them imprinting on someone much younger is that they would be there to protect them and then be like their best friend until they reached sexual maturity, and then which they would become their lover slash life mate. I still think that's incredibly predatory behavior. Um grooming is what you could classify it as. And I don't like that the six-year-old got touched by a Chinese I wouldn't say assassin vampire, but a Chinese vampire that worked against the Arginal cult and then had potential romantic slash sexual feelings for a few thousand-year-old Chinese vampire with the brass circle. Doesn't sit well with me. I don't like any of it. There's a hundred different ways that she could have written that and come up with a reason why Quinn M. Petronella survived and everything else instead of putting in um pedophilia life mate bonding as the fucking reason. Fucking bizarre. I'm still having fun reading the story. I'm just not liking where the story's going anymore. Uh solemnly aside, we've only got about a hundred pages left. I think a little less than that. So four more chapters, hundred pages. So about another month, and then we'll be done with the book. I'm interested to see where the rest of the story goes. Um, I have no fucking clue what she's doing, because every time I think I fucking get a handle on the situation, she throws something completely out of left build, which there was no Chekhov's gun leading to that moment. There was no build up leading to that moment. So I'm just completely fucking confused. Like I never would have expected it to go this direction based off the first two chapters that I read nearly three well over three months ago now. Oh well. Well, thank you for joining me, and uh we'll get to the next one next week.