I pulled some eggs and sausage out of the fridge before grabbing a pan to start cooking. I leaned heavily against the stove, still very weak.
“Does real food appeal to you at all?” I asked him knowing demons ate, but wondering if it tasted good to them.
“Of course it does,” he said with a laugh at my question. “Why wouldn’t it?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “You've just seemed to be enjoying your new blood diet,” I replied and I eyed him with more than a little doubt.
He paused before he answered. “The blood is appetizing to me. But a lot of the enjoyment comes from the fact it's yours.”
“I know. Your mom explained it would be like this because mine carries more power than anyone else’s, besides yours anyway,” I added.
“That isn’t what I meant,” he smiled, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.
“Really? What did you mean then?” I asked, enjoying him being next to me.
He chuckled and he placed a kiss next to my ear.
“I have a physical reaction to it. I don’t know if it's because we are together like this, but there's a pleasurable aftershock. It wasn’t that way when I drank from Babs, only you.”
I quit stirring the eggs for a moment, letting his words sink in.
“Are saying drinking from me is a … turn on?” I replied, turning to look at him incredulously.
He grinned widely back at me. “Something like that,” he nodded, pulling me a little closer to kiss me.
I was kind of detached from the kiss though while this new information rolled around in my head.
“Hey,” he said, nudging me back to reality. “You're burning stuff.”
“Oh!” I said, quickly turning to move them in the pan.
I heard him laughing behind me. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“That's exactly what you were trying to do, and you know it,” I replied, not truly upset at him.
“Was it working?” he questioned me, his arms finding their way around my waist once more.
“Doesn’t it always?” I said, with a smile.
He paused, and I knew he was ruffling through my memories again.
“I guess it does,” he replied, and he placed a kiss at my neck.
I elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed at me.
“Go get us some plates,” I ordered him.
He did as I requested carrying them over to set them next to the stove before he leaned up against the counter to gaze at me.
“What?” I asked, when he continued to stare at me.
“Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me?” I replied, not following.
“Me biting you and drinking your blood,” he said straight to the point.
“Yeah.” I could see this appeared to hurt him a little from the look of regret that passed over his face.
“It’s only painful for you?” he asked with what seemed like real concern.
“Pretty much,” I replied. “Except for when we were together last night. Something was different then. I'm not sure why, but it was almost … enjoyable.” My skin flushed in a heated blush.
He pondered for a moment. “That’s interesting,” he commented, before following me to the table to sit down.
“I want you to keep doing it,” I said joining him, and jumping right into the conversation we needed to have.
He glanced at me with a bit of surprise on his face. “Why would you if it hurts so much?”
“Because, I think you'll be able to control your urges better if you feed often. I don’t want you to freak out and go off the deep end like some new demons do.” I watched for his reaction. “I mean look at you right now. You're sitting here getting ready to eat breakfast with me like a civilized human being. That's a good thing.”
He didn’t reply so I continued.
“I talked to Krista about this. She said this is the reason your grandparents were able to be so methodical with the way they handled things. They were always feeding in small amounts. The bloodlust was never allowed to completely overtake them.”
I spooned some eggs over onto his plate.
“It feels good when the bloodlust is in control,” he stated, glancing down at his food.
“I’m sure it does,” I replied, reaching out to place one of my hands over his. “But you turn into a jerk.”
He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m being nice when I call you a jerk,” I added, to make my point clear to him.
He nodded in understanding after a moment, before placing a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“What if I really am just a jerk?” he questioned after he swallowed.
“You've never been that way before,” I said shaking my head in denial not willing to believe it.
He sighed heavily.
“Portia, I keep telling you I’m not that person anymore,” he replied, this time almost viciously stabbing his eggs.
I felt his anger rising. His face flushed red and a hint of his demon appearance made a sudden flash over his features briefly.
I took my fork and stabbed it into my hand, crying out at the pain.
“What the heck, Portia?” he exclaimed at my reaction.
I pulled the fork out and let a few drops of my blood fall onto his food before the holes closed themselves up again.
He watched me closely before he took another bite of his food, his features instantly relaxing as soon as he tasted it.
“I prove my point,” I said nodding toward the blood on his plate. “You're better when you are feeding.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “I understand. You want to be able to reason with me.”
“Yes,” I replied with a smile. “Reasoning is a good thing. Plus if you can keep the bloodlust under control, you have a better chance of not freaking out against some other innocent witch or warlock you might happen across. Drinking from someone else does harm them. It won’t do anything to me.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Will you at least consider what I'm telling you?” I asked, wondering if he even cared about the things I was saying to him.
“I have no problem with continuing to feed on you,” he stated, staring at me. “If I'm being totally honest with you, I would've forced you to continue anyway.” He didn’t flinch at the shocked reaction on my face. “I do feel bad it hurts you though,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
I looked him straight in the eyes while I spoke.
“It is a small price to pay to keep you with me.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t understand why you'd want to stay with me. From what I can tell, your life has become a complete travesty from the moment we got together. I can’t see how I’m worth any of it.”
I stood up and walked around the table, placing both of my hands on the sides of his face.
“It's worth it because I love you, and I'll take you anyway I can get you. I had to live a few days of my life thinking you were dead and never coming back to me. I thought I would continue to exist the next several hundred years without you. It was the most horrible thing I've ever experienced. You being here is a miracle, and I won't squander it for a minute. I understand you don’t remember, but I hope someday you'll be able to feel the same way about me that I do about you.”
I dropped my hands from him and turned to walk over to the sink. His chair scraped away from the table a brief second before he grabbed me from behind, turning me to face him, and he scooted me back up against the counter.
He gave me an intense stare.
“I want you to believe me when I tell you I love you.” He watched me intently.
“I do believe you,” I replied, sighing. “I just realize you don’t really remember me and your feelings are floundering around a bit right now.”
He nodded slightly. “All of that is true,” he agreed. “But the one constant emotion I do feel is love for you.
Sometimes it's confused by everything else that is going on around me, but it never stops.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said, truly meaning it.
He looked at me closely, his eyes squinting, before he released me. He took a step back.
“You don’t believe I care for you as much as I used to,” he accused, his stare burning into mine.
I couldn’t reply. He had caught me off guard, but he was also right.
“Are you serious?” he demanded.
“How can you even know?” I questioned him. “You, yourself, keep reminding me how much you can’t remember.”
“That might be true,” he fumed, and I stared in fascination while his veins began to change colors before my eyes, “But I can relate to those first emotions you gave to me. You know … the ones which were mine. I assure you my feelings for you are much beyond any of those you showed me.”
I wanted desperately to believe him, but I could see he was beginning to speak from anger. It was like he was bi-polar, the way he switched from one mood to another.
“Do you need a drink?” I asked, raising my wrist to his face. “You seem a little flustered.”
He eyed my extended limb for a moment before a look of disgust crossed his features.
“You know what? Forget it! I don’t need this from you,” he said, turning to walk out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Chapter 11
I stood staring at the empty room for several moments in shock, not knowing quite what to do. Should I run after him?
I hadn’t meant to upset him so much. I wanted to believe him more than anything in the world. This was hard for me too. I was unsure if Vance realized exactly how much he'd loved me in the past. He had nothing to compare to.
I started when I heard a knock on the door and for one brief second I thought he'd returned. But why would he knock? I walked over and opened it to find Shelly standing outside.
“Oh, good! You’re okay!” she exclaimed a little breathless and she glanced nervously behind her.
“Come in,” I replied with a questioning stare, stepping to the side to allow her to enter. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She walked over to the couch and sat down.
“I don’t know. I had visions all night of Vance doing horrible things to you and you not having anyone to help you. Then when he stormed out of here with such an angry look on his face, I was worried.”
“You saw him leave?”
“Yes. I’ve been watching the bungalow all morning waiting for an opportunity to check on you. I was afraid to come over if he was here. I wasn’t sure how safe things were. When he left and headed toward the rear parking lot I figured now was a good time.”
I smiled at her, turning to walk back into the kitchen. “Well as you can see, I'm fine.” I went to pick the up plates Vance and I had left on the table, carrying them first to the disposal to scrape them before placing them in the dishwasher.
Shelly entered the room behind me, leaning up against the doorway.
“Did he try to hurt you?” She looked me over.
“Not intentionally.” I scraped the left over eggs out of the pan so I could wash it too.
“Then he did.”
“Yes,” I replied, still not making eye contact with her.
“What did he do?” she asked me point blank.
“He bit me,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, as if we were just chatting about the weather or something.
“How many times?” she pressed for answers.
“Two,” I replied. “But it's not as bad as it sounds,” I added quickly.
“And how's that possible?” she asked.
“Well, one time happened during … an intimate moment, and the other was when he woke up first thing this morning.” I blushed a little.
“Oh!” she said, in understanding. “So the two of you are still … together?”
“Yes, we are,” I said turning to face her. “And I’m very happy about it.”
“I don’t get how you can do it.” She shook her head.
“Do what?”
“Be with him in his condition,” she replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I couldn’t imagine making love to a demon.”
“Demon or not, he's still my husband Shelly. I made a vow to love him forever and I intend to keep it,” I said a little forcefully.
“He's abusing you!” she argued back.
“No he isn’t,” I answered hotly. “He loves me!”
“He is biting you and drinking your blood!” she yelled, waving a hand dramatically through the air. “How's that not abuse?”
I took a deep breath. “It isn’t, because I offered it to him."
“You did what?” she asked in disbelief, looking for a moment as if her eyes were going to bug out of her head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because he needs the blood, and because … I don’t hate it,” I replied, really feeling the stain moving across my face now.
“You actually like it?” she said with an incredulous stare.
“In the heat of passion, yes I do. Otherwise it's a bit painful,” I explained truthfully.
“Wow,” Shelly said her face going blank. “I’m in shock. I’m not even sure what to say.”
“Look,” I began, and I struggled to try to tell her something which would make her understand. “I realize all of this is strange to you, it is for me too, but try to see this from a magical perspective. He can’t harm me, at least not permanently, and he can’t change me into a demon. This makes me the perfect candidate for him. It'll protect the rest of the coven from him also. If he's ever thirsty, he knows where to come. This way is best for everyone. Plus, being able to have blood whenever he needs or wants it helps him to control the demon emotions the bloodlust causes. This is a good thing for all involved.”
Shelly shook her head from side to side. “I guess, if you say so. It’s your life, but I'm not sure if I could live like that,” she replied not sounding convinced.
“I want to Shelly.” I gave her a pleading look, trying to make her understand. “I thought he was dead, gone for good. I'll take whatever he'll give me. I just don’t want to lose him ever again.”
She locked eyes with me for several seconds before she nodded.
“Why was he angry when he left?”
“I hurt his feelings,” I said, owning up to my mistake.
“How?”
“He was trying to tell me how much he loved me and I questioned him. Then he got upset, and I thought he was losing control again so I offered him some of my blood. It didn’t go over too well,” I explained. “I should try to be a little more tactful. I find when his demon attributes flash to the surface I enjoy goading him.”
“Why would you risk kicking him while he’s down?” she asked, looking at me as if I'd finally lost my mind.
I sighed. “He gets so danged cocky I feel like I need to bring him down a notch or two. I want the demon part of him to realize I’m not going to sit there and let him walk all over me.”
“Well, I hope you know what you're doing,” she commented with half an eye roll at me.
“That’s the beauty of it. I don’t. I'm just trying to keep my head above water,” I looked at her. “But having friends like you around, helps out a lot. So, thank you for your concern,” I added sincerely.
“Of course, I love you. You’re my best friend.” She came to give me a hug.
“Hey! I thought that was my line,” Vance’s voice said from the other room.
He'd come back. I wondered how much he had heard.
Shelly stiffened and let go of me. We turned to move through the doorway together.
“Hey Shell,” he said with one of his sultry grins, his eyes flicking over her before he began walking toward us. “How’s it going?”
“I’m okay." She sounded a bit like a kid who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Vance moved past her to come to my side, and I noticed she ducked back aw
ay from him slightly as if she were scared of him.
“I’m sorry for walking out on you earlier,” he said softly to me. “I understand you were trying to help.” He bent to kiss me on the cheek. His temperament seemed to have done a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn. I couldn’t possibly keep up with him.
“It’s fine,” I replied, trying to hide my surprise. “I shouldn’t have questioned your feelings.”
He waved his hand in dismissal.
“We'll talk about it later, okay?” he asked, and I nodded before he turned back to Shelly. “Shelly, where's the rest of the coven?” he added, abruptly changing the conversation.
“What?” she stuttered, not prepared for the question in the least.
“Ah hah!” His grin widened. “I knew I was right. You know where they are.”
“Uh … I … I’m not supposed to tell you,” she stammered out while she stared at him. “I’m not even supposed to tell Portia.”
“I need you to tell me, Shelly,” he responded taking a step closer to her causing her to take an involuntary step backward.
“Why?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“Well, first off, I think I owe Babs an apology, and second, I want to let Sean know it's safe for everyone to come home,” he explained.
“I'll pass your messages along,” she offered, looking toward me for some help.
“I’d prefer to do it in person,” Vance said continuing to press the issue with her.
She shook her head vehemently.
“Sorry Vance. I took an oath I wouldn’t say. I promise I'll tell Sean about your desires and if he wishes to speak to you or let you know where they are then he can get hold of you.”
“Come on, Shelly,” Vance complained. “I could just follow you. What's the difference really?”
I placed my arm on his.
“Vance, don’t ask her to break her word. Let her give the message to my dad,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry with me for intruding.
He looked at me and I saw the frustration pass through his eyes.
“Fine.” He snapped as he turned to walk into the bedroom, closing the door loudly behind him.
The Dark Rising Page 9
