Special Note: Please kindly excuse any discrepancies you may come across as you read this book including formatting issues. I hope the power, depth, and beauty of the content outweighs any grammatical inconsistencies or lack of aesthetic quality. Thank you again for allowing me to be a part of your life through my writing.
-
-
-
Beth awoke at nearly ten the next morning. The digital clock on the bedside table cast a red glow through the room. At least she thought it was morning. It had to be because she couldn't have slept through until the following night. Sitting up, she reached around for the lamp she remembered being beside her. When she flicked it on, it provided minimal illumination.
The room was utterly silent except for her own movements. So silent she thought she must be alone. But when she rolled over to look, she saw Soren stretched on the floor, fully clothes, flat on his back. He appeared to be sleeping.
She held her breath, listening, and realized he truly wasn't breathing.
So it was all true. It hadn't been a crazy dream.
Quietly, although she didn't know why she felt the need for stealth, she climbed out of bed and crept over to him. When she knelt beside him, she put her ear to his lips.
Definitely not breathing. Then she rested her hand over his heart and waited. No heartbeat. None.
She jerked back, partly because she felt she was trespassing, and partly because the reality of her situation came home to her again.
It was real. All of it.
A shuddering sigh escaped her, and she continued to kneel beside him, absorbing the realities she hadn't fully connected with the night before.
Nothing, evidently. Everything had seemed so casual and so muffled that at some level nothing had penetrated. Yes, she'd experienced that thing in her apartment. Yes, she'd seen Soren move so fast he seemed to vanish and reappear, she'd watched him drink blood, she'd seen his eyes turn to chips of black coal.
But something had kept the reality of it all from coming home.
Now, suddenly shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, she wanted to deny it all, to cram reality back into its familiar box and lock all the things that belonged in fantasy, not reality. She wanted to go back to the relative safety of the world she had lived in before Soren, before that god-awful feeling in her apartment. A world where things like this only happened in the pages of a book.
But lying before her on the floor was a man who, for all intents and purposes, was dead. She felt body-slammed as last night rushed home at last to her brain and her emotions. Gasping for breath, she pushed herself back on her hands and knees away from him.
It was all true. All of it was true. And she could no more escape from the knowledge than she could return to her apartment and resume a normal life.
Shock lifted its hazy veil and left her with a world forever changed. For once, with the evidence lying right in front of her, denial wasn't going to work.
She could run away right now. Every cell in her body wanted to do exactly that. But she vividly remembered his warning not to open the door. He had trusted her, and not even fear could make her betray that trust.
But, God, with her brain running in crazy, pointless circles like a hamster in a wheel, unable to find a place to stop and rest in this new world, she didn't know how she was going to handle this.
A vampire. For real.
She slid away even farther until her back was to the wall. An internal earthquake rattled her, worse even than when she had learned Tommy was cheating. Cheating, at least, fit into things that happened in the real world. But not vampires. Most definitely not.
Nor did demons, actually, and certainly not the prince of them. Yet according to someone her friend Detective Mavis Burke trusted, she was facing exactly that.
So what, she asked herself, was worse? Being hunted by a demon or protected by a vampire?
Neither question seemed to make sense. They sounded ridiculous, ludicrous, even within the private confines of her own mind.
Finally, she put her head in her hands and waited, just waited. So much adrenaline would not help her think. Not at all.
Not that she felt afraid of him. Maybe she should. Maybe it would be wise. But he'd been honest with her, and she trusted him to be a man of his word.
She ought to know better than that, given Tommy, but Soren struck her as a far better man. He'd given her the truth, after all, even when it could have caused him serious problems.
Curious, she crept close again and reached out to touch his cheek. Smooth. Cool. Room temperature, as he'd said, but not chilly. And not even the tiniest bit of evidence of beard growth. She snatched her hand back in surprise, then slowly reached out again. Definitely no beard stubble. Yet his skin still felt smooth and supple. Alive even though he evidently was not. How weird was that?
Inevitably, she took the opportunity to drink him in with her eyes. He was very handsome man, with patrician features and a firm jaw. The kind of face that would always draw a woman's eye. When he was awake, the golden color of his eyes was beautiful. The black not so much. She needed to ask him why his eyes changed like that, and when.
But first she needed to absorb all the shocks. To just let it all roll through her until it found a place to settle.
Finally, she drew back to the table where he'd set her computer, another lamp and beside it, her suitcase. To her surprise, she discovered he'd left the coffeemaker for her, plugged in and ready to brew a pot. She switched it on, then turned so she could watch him again.
Reason and instinct warred for a while, but finally, being a realist, she had to admit that the things she had seen and experienced could have no other explanation than the one he'd given her: that he was a vampire. She could still question whether a demon was stalking her, but she couldn't question what she'd seen with her own eyes.
So ok, she needed to knit together a new version of reality, and as she sat there sipping coffee, she realized it wasn't that difficult. There was so much about the world that was still unknown. Why not vampires?
And if vampires were mostly like Soren and Asher, why would she panic? Really. In fact, even if most vampires weren't like Soren and Asher, what did it matter? They were the only vampires she knew.
She continued to stare at Soren, vaguely aware that she was going hungry, but unable to stop looking. God, she felt as if her interest in him was evolving into a craving. How could that be? For heaven's sake he was undead. But even just looking at him was enough to make her pulse pound a little, and a hard ache to occur between her legs.
Oh, she'd been so intelligent and bright last night, saying he must be natural or he wouldn't exist. And it was true. But at some level she didn't quite believe that. Or did she?
Sighing, giving up the internal arguments at last, she resigned herself to the fact that no amount of reasoning or emotion would change the basic facts: Soren appeared to be exactly what he said he was, and regardless of what he was, she wanted him with a kind of longing she'd never really felt before. Not even for Tommy.
"Don't be stupid," she said aloud. Soren never stirred. So ok, he was dead. Undead. Whatever. And she was being stupid because what did she know about vampires except silly stories from myth and novels? Evidently a lot of what she thought she knew was wrong.
What was more, he had showed her the ultimate trust. There he lay, completely helpless, and he'd shared his room with her. He'd trusted her not to take advantage of his vulnerability in his death sleep, or whatever it was. Because even though he said he could wake up if necessary, she suspected there were a whole lot of terrible things she could do to him that he couldn't protect himself from quickly enough...like opening the bedroom door and letting in the sunlight.
His trust cracked through the last of her fear. How could she fear someone who had put his life in her hands?
-
-
-
Eventually, after her shower and change, she faced the refrigerator. On top of it sat some boxes of crackers, a few plates and flatware. She hesitated, however, when it came to opening the small fridge. She knew most of what she would find in there: bags of blood. Why that should make her hesitate after watching Soren drink it, she didn't know. For the first time, she saw the biohazard container tucked in beside it. That seemed curious.
Finally, she opened the refrigerator door and felt surprised that it wasn't fully of bags of blood. In fact, there were only three in there. The rest of the space was filled with leftovers from last night's meal and the unopened cheese that had been in his kitchen the day before.
After a moment of hesitation, she decided on cheese and crackers; she could eat the leftovers later.
It was odd to spend the day in a dark room, with only a little lamplight, but far from as difficult or unnerving as she had initially expected. In fact, all that happened was that with a choice between sitting boredom or working, she got a lot of work done.
Time passed almost unnoticed, between being busy and having no visual cues other than the clock. She wound up being started when she heard a gasp. She had become so absorbed in her writing that she had forgotten she was not alone.
Turning, she saw Soren, his eyes open. His face appeared twisted, but quickly smoothed out. An instant later he was on his feet. Evidently, it surprised him a bit to awaken and discover he wasn't alone, because at first he crouched, as if ready for a fight.
Then he straightened and gave her a smile. "Good evening."
"That looked like it hurt."
"Resurrection always hurts. Are you tired of this room?"
"I could be."
"Has it been an awful day?"
"Actually not. It's amazing how much writing I can do when there aren't any distractions."
A low laugh escaped him. "My feeling about most nights, usually."
He took a few minutes in the bath to clean up. She heard the shower run, heard the sink tap. The sound of things being moved.
Amazingly intimate sounds, given that there was a closed door between them. She closed her computer after saving her work and waited. Not long: he moved fast.
He emerged dressed in fresh clothes, another version of black, this time a bulky sweater and slacks.
"Do you always wear black?"
He paused as he slipped his feet into shoes. "Usually. It makes it easier to blend with the shadows." He finished donning his shoes and went to open the bedroom door. "Asher and Julie should be here soon. I asked Julie to bring a decent meal for you."
"Have they found out something?"
"No, I don't think so. But we've developed a complication."
Her heart jammed. "We don't already have enough complications?"
"Apparently not. But I'll tell you about it over dinner. Then we can discuss everything we know, and everything we don't know."
"The everything we don't know is the part that worries me most."
He opened the bedroom door, and for the first time, she realized it had an unusual lock. As he passed the bar handle, she could hear three dead bolts snap open, one after another.
He threw the door wide, revealing the twilit city through the windows beyond.
Then he surprised her. Instead of leaving the room, he came to kneel in front of her. Reaching out, he touched her cheek. His voice grew husky. "You drive me mad. This room is full of your scent now. Such a desirable scent."
Her heart skipped to a faster rhythm. Was he going to kiss her? She actually found herself tensing with hope that he would.
"You can leave," he said. "You can walk out of this room. Do you believe me?"
She did. Surprising, she definitely believed she could. But she didn't move except to nod. Instead, she waited, fascinated, yearning, ignoring every sensible thought that tried to pop into her head.
Moving so slowly that she could not mistake what was coming, so slowly that she had plenty of time to avert it, he leaned toward her and kissed her.
The touch of his cool lips electrified her. Shocks zinged throughout her entire body. It was a light kiss, a gentle touching of lips, but she couldn't leave it there. No. needing so much, she twined her arms around his neck, opening her entire body to any touch he might choose to give her. For an instant, she felt him deepen the kiss. His hand brushed over her breast, unleashing new aching wave of longing. A surge of triumph slammed her. In that moment, she wanted him beyond thought and reason, beyond any desire she had ever felt in her life.
And for a little while, he seemed about ready to give it to her. His hands kneaded her breast to aching fullness, through the layers of cloth his thumb brushed her nipple until she gasped and her hips, of their own accord, tilted toward him. She parted her legs, making room for him, needing him to touch her there, needing it with such depth and strength that she couldn't think of anything else. Had he leaned toward her, she would have welcomed him and made herself his.
Then he was gone.
Her eyes, now heavy-lidded with passion, had to search to discover he stood in the doorway.
"I shouldn't have done that."
"Why not?
"One should never taste forbidden fruit." Then he turned and vanished.
Disappointment slammed her so hard she doubled over.
-
-
-
Much more of this, Soren thought, and he was going to turn into the kind of monster he loathed. Being locked up with a woman who aroused his every instinct and hunger to raging levels was turning into a test he might well fail.
He took no comfort in the fact that he had just pulled away when his entire nature was screaming for him to drink, to have sex. No mortal could understand the extremity of craving a vampire felt for those things.
He was like a man who had spent days in a desert without any water and at last had caught sight of an oasis. He had to keep reminding himself that that oasis was merely a mirage, that Beth was simply curious and attracted, just an illusion that would flit away as soon as the danger was past.
But his thirst for her couldn't be slaked by reminders of reality. No, the mirage drew him as powerfully as if it were real.
He stood staring out over the darkening city without seeing it, because all he could notice were Beth's scents, powerful even at this distance, even though she had not yet emerged from the bedroom.
Trial by fire, he thought with bitter amusement. Atoning in these hours for every sin he'd ever committed. He doubted hell itself could offer worse torment than self-denial of something so essential and needed.
Much more of this, and he might well need a straightjacket.
"Soren?"
Reluctantly he turned to see her standing in the open doorway of his bedroom. "Yes?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why am I forbidden fruit?"
Hell. He really didn't want to discuss this with her, and he'd already tried to explain once. It was hard enough to contain all this within himself.
"Because I'm dangerous to you," he said flatly. "Because I could hurt you without meaning to."
"How?"
He swore quietly and turned his back to her. Bad enough he had to deal with her enticing scents without seeing her, as well. Because, if I were to forget myself, I could make you crave me forever. I told you that."
"Isn't that my problem?"
He swung around, nearly glaring. "You don't get it, Beth. You don't begin to get it. Look at me. As near as I can tell, I have no purpose but to seduce and drink. Everything about me is designed t make you want me. And if I drink from you sufficiently, what you feel now will pale by comparison. I've seen humans become totally consumed by the need to repeat the experience of making love with a vampire, of being drunk from by a vampire. They might as well be crack addicts."
"Oh." Her voice was small.
"I know you want me. I want you, too. And the pull I'm feeling toward you is so strong, so unusually strong, that I can't trust myself to stop soon enough if I start."
"I see."
He was certain she didn't, but he sure as hell didn't know how to make her see when the reality was so far from her experience.
She had no idea, of course, that he could truly feel her desire for him almost as strongly as he could feel his own. That her scents, her heartbeat—audible even at this distance—made him feel her yearning, and that there was no more powerful aphrodisiac in the world.
Or that resisting her might require more willpower than he could muster.
He was actually relieved when his doorbell rang and even more relieved when he opened it and found not just Asher but also Julie, Mackenzie and Jay.
Julie breeze by first, carrying a large bag from a restaurant, followed by Mackenzie who winked at him as if she knew exactly what kind of hell he was going through and actually had the cheek to think it was cool. She, too, carried a large restaurant bag.
Julie and Mackenzie went about setting a table for the four humans, with some help from Beth who seemed glad to be surrounded by some other females, especially human ones. Not that he could blame her. After his warning, maybe she was beginning to realize she might not be able to trust him completely. And much as it pained him to make her feel that way, it was still true. If he couldn't trust himself, then it was dangerous for her to trust. God, sometimes he hated himself!
When everyone had gathered around the table Soren carried two armchairs closer for him and Asher. He saw Beth's eyes widen at the sight of him carrying those chair, one in each hand, as if they were made of paper.
Good, let her think about what that might mean. He needed her to pull away before his self-control lost the battle against instinctive drivers. A little avoidance from the morsel would be welcome at this point.
Of course, the aromas of the food the humans were eating hardly affected him. What affected him was being so close to four humans each of whom smelled like a meal to a starving man. He smothered a sigh and tried to focus on the issues.
"Ok," Jay said. "I found a couple of people who are possessed. I found hints of the same stench from Beth's apartment around them, but just faint traces. My guess is that he's being cagey for the moment. Trying not to leave too much of a trail."
"It's Asmodai for certain," Soren announced. "Kane Durand recognized the stench, and he would know."
"Ah, Kane," said Asher "Another major headache."
Jay spoke. "I'm not the only one?"
Asher looked at Jay from the corner of his eye.
Jay waved a hand. "Can you blame me for being glad I'm not the only thorn in your side?
Asher sighed.
Beth stirred. "Who is Kane and why is he a problem?"
"Kane," Soren explained, "is another vampire. He showed up here last night. He'd gotten wind of Asmodai, and he's out for revenge."
"Why?"
Soren hesitated. In mixed company, explaining was a claiming was difficult. Hell, it was difficult to discuss even among vampires, since it was something they preferred not to think about. He decided the condensed version was safest. "Asmodai killed his mate five years ago."
"Violet," Asher said, his face darkening. "She was a delight."
"Yes, she was. And Kane said he doesn't care what it costs, even in terms of lives, but he will take his revenge."
"Great," said Jay. "You have me out there hunting for a demon who can kill even vampires? Uh, I don't think so!"
"Oh, hush," Mackenzie snapped, slapping at his arm. "You''re the one who's been driving Asher and me nuts for the past two years, insisting that you're good enough to work with us."
"Nobody said anything about a demon even you vampires can't protect me from."
"Are you a demon hunter or not?"
Jay glared at her.
"Chicken," said Mackenzie, and sniffed.
"I'm not a chicken. But Asmodai?" Jay's voice almost reached a squeak on the name. a look from Asher silenced him.
Soren wished Beth would do more than pick at her food, a serving of chicken marsala. She needed to keep her strength up. Humans weren't like vampires: they couldn't go several days without eating and not suffer for it. But he didn't know how to encourage her to eat.
Finally, Soren leaned toward her, just an inch or two. "Look how many are gathered here to fight this thing. You're not alone."
Her green eyes met his, hinting at fear, but not so much that it quelled her spark. "I'm grateful to everyone. I realize you're all fighting this. But I need to be able to do something. I can't impose on you forever. Sometimes I even have to go out. So it would great if I could help get rid of this thing. Instead, I feel a bit like bait dangling in the wind. I'd rather take action."
"Action will have to wait," Asher said. "We need to find the others who are pulled in to create the pentagram. And we need to find a way to deal with Kane before he makes a mess."
"Kane will be back," Soren said with certainty. "He knows I'm aware of Asmodai. He's got to know he can't deal with this solo."
Mackenzie spoke. "Then why didn't he listen to you last night?"
"Because Kane has quite a temper. My guess would be the scent of Asmodai infuriated him. He'll calm down enough to think. He may have already. But we're dealing with..." He stopped himself, unwilling to get into claiming. He suspected Mackenzie knew about it, but he wasn't sure about Jay, and then there was Beth. Although maybe she needed to know so she'd protect herself by backing away from him.
But Asher laid it out there. "We're dealing with a claiming," he said flatly.
Julie gasped. Mackenzie's eye grew huge. The question was inevitable now.
Jay barely started to inhale before Asher said, "Shut up, Jay. Beth, Soren will explain to you later. Let's move on."
"Move on?" Mackenzie asked incredulously. "This changes everything." She looked from Asher to Soren. "Are you sure he'll control himself? Because if he arrives helter-skelter in the midst of a ritual, there's no telling what might be unleashed. If Asher hasn't warned you about that yet, let me do it. He's sure warned me enough times."
"I'll talk to him," Soren replied. He could promise no more than that. "I think he'll realize that he's more likely to get what he wants if he works with us. Especially since he seems to have no idea how Asmodai emerged five years ago, or what sent him back afterward. What's he going to do on his own?"
"Why do you people always tell me to shut up?" Jay complained. "I'm the one out there hunting these things. If there's a problem I need to know."
Asher frowned. "All you need to know is to stay out of the way of Kane Durand. And tell him nothing."
"Oh." Jay wagged his head. "Since when has it been possible not to answer a vampire's question?"
"Since you got some backbone?" Mackenzie suggested.
"You never have any trouble ignoring me," Asher reminded him.
"You've never tried to vamp me."
"Oh, yes, I have. Every time I tell you not to do something. It's worked so splendidly, hasn't it?"
Soren saw Beth raise her hand to cover her mouth, and he as relieved to see amusement dancing around her eyes.
Julie outright giggled, and Jay shot her a look. "You, too?" he asked. "Why does everyone think I'm a joke?"
"Not a joke, Jay," Julie assured him. "Honestly. You're just...cute."
Jay settled back, clearly not certain how to take that. "Puppies are cute," he grumbled finally.
"Exactly, pup," Asher said. "Enjoy it while it lasts. Ok, so we have two possessed identified?"
"There may be a third one," Jay answered. "I couldn't get close enough to be sure today. But I'll start again in a few hours. And Julie let me check the morgue today. Your guess was right. That person who was killed the other night appears to have died during an attempted possession by you-know-who."
Silence fell around the table. Soren could smell the fear that pierced Beth at this news and he wished he had some comfort to offer. Then he sighed, acknowledging that any comfort at this point would be specious anyway. Hell, he was frightened himself, for her. What had started as a job had grown into something that had definitely begun to involve him at a personal level. A very personal level.
So much for all the defenses he thought he'd built.
Asher spoke. "An additional assignment, Jay. I want you to try to find Beth's former boyfriend. Get the necessary information from her when we're done here. All right then. We have the beginnings of the circle. Once we have them all..." He trailed off.
"Once we have them all," Soren said, though he was well aware that Asher, and not he, was the expert here, "we need to make sure they come together at a time and place of our choosing." Easier said than done, of course.
Asher nodded. "I agree, though it won't be easy. I need to give some thought to that. There may be a way. Hell, there has to be way, because we definitely need the advantage. Anything else?"
"That last time Asmodai was bound, it was done by chaining the Tetragrammaton around his neck. Getting that on him is not going to be easy, I suspect. Assuming we can get one made in time."
Then Soren sat back, frowning thoughtfully. "But I may know exactly where to get one. I seem to remember one being mentioned, one on a blackened chain..." He trailed off then suddenly smiled. "I do think my dear friend Avi Herschel has a story he needs to tell me."
Asher stirred. "Just remember, Soren. You've got to watch Beth. Don't forget, Kane may be a threat to her, too."
Beth stiffened but didn't ask the obvious. Instead, she appeared to force herself to eat a few bites of her chicken. Why did he think that she was saving up a whole lot of unpleasant questions for later?
Probably because he knew damn well she wasn't incurious by nature. Yes, she'd ask. He just hoped he'd provide acceptable answers.
Because, at heart, he wasn't sure just how much of his dark, hidden world he wanted to display to her. What if she was horrified? Worse, what if she wasn't?
There was evidently no good answer to the question of Beth Grainger and his hunger for her.
So he sat there, listening as the discussion lightened to ordinary things, and wondered if a vampire could go insane, short of losing the object of a claiming.
He'd spend the better part of a century avoiding the line he was treading here with Beth. A very narrow, very dangerous line. One he might trip over at any instant.
Yes, he was crazy. To what degree only time would tell.
-
-
-
It paid some attention now taking care not to draw close enough for the hunter to smell it. It listened, but could make out very little of what was said. Not that it mattered.
It had drawn the undead one here, the one who called himself Kane. That one would destroy all the plans these others were making. That was what it had called him here to do.
- Next Update November 19 -