Cherry Pie

by Sotia Lazu

  “—we were fighting the rebel Bardas Phokas, when a sword sliced through my side. I dispatched of my attacker and was forced to seek shelter in the catacombs of a monastery. There, among the robes of a deceased priest, I found a scroll. At the time, I didn’t know what its significance was, but I held on to it nonetheless.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “You were wounded and in a place filled with dead people, and you decided to keep a piece of paper that meant nothing to you?”

  “Parchment, Cherry. It was old, and it called to me.” He gave a rueful smile. “And it was in my hand when I died.”

  I leaned forward. “That’s when Ádísa turned you?” I ached to reach for him and was grateful for the coffee table acting as a barrier between us. Touching him again wouldn’t lead to good things. Correction—it’d probably lead to great things, which would be bad.

  “Indeed. I remember the cold stone beneath me and the smell of mold in the air. When she leaned over me, I was sure she was a Valkyrie, come to take me to Valhalla.”

  She’d cultivated that myth for a while. Before I dusted her childe and co-conspirator, Willoughby, I found out she was really a succubus, who lost the Devil’s favor when she fell for a mortal and failed to get his soul.

  “What was Ádísa doing there?” I asked.

  “She thrived on war. She joined the guard looking for blood and mayhem.”

  “But—” She was a woman, was what I meant to say. I must have thought it too loudly.

  “Viking women never shied from battle.”

  “Makes sense.” I could picture her slaying people, running them through with a sword, or tearing into them with her bare hands.

  Constantine’s gaze was vacant, as if he’d been transported to that time so long ago. “She was beautiful and fierce, and when she offered me immortality, I didn’t refuse her. She sealed my wound, her lips cold against my fevered skin. She closed her mouth over my throat, and I wouldn’t mind dying in her arms. I hadn’t felt a woman’s touch since I left my wife behind.”

  The shocks wouldn’t stop coming. “You were married?”

  He sighed. “I never saw her or my two daughters again. Never went back. I was dead and reborn that night. I buried my name together with my past.” His eyes were dark and stormy with pain.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head. “I loved them. I left. I died. I expect so did they.”

  I wouldn’t press for more. This was his story to share.

  “When I woke up, I was disoriented and ravenous. She fed me her blood and we spent the night together. I was enthralled by her beauty and ruthlessness. We joined the fight side by side and fed on our enemies and our warriors alike. By the time the battle was done and Phokas was dead, I was so taken with her, I’d have done anything she asked.

  “You know the rest. I did her bidding for years. I followed her like her trained guard dog. We fought and parted ways for decades at a time, only to pick up where we’d left off. We traveled the world. Witnessed the wonders of technology. Broke up and reunited. Blood and death followed her. I didn’t approve of senseless slaughter—no honor in that—but I didn’t object. She was my everything, even when there was an ocean between us.”

  I did know this part, from bits and pieces he’d shared about his past the year and a half we’d been together, but I’d never heard this condensed version that showed how important she’d been to him. How deep his feelings for her ran. It wasn’t jealousy I felt; in the end, he’d proven he loved me more. Hearing him talk about her with such awe, though, made me hurt for his loss and the hard choice he had to make when he killed her to save me.

  “Society changed,” Constantine said. “The need to hide our nature became more pronounced, but Ádísa was as reckless as ever. I cleaned her messes because I felt I had to, but as time went by, I became more vocal about questioning her decisions. And then there was Ruby.”

  My grandma, whom Ádísa left behind for dead and Constantine turned.

  “And then there was me,” I said.

  Constantine’s smile was brighter than the sun. “And then there was you.” The warmth in his voice tugged at my very core.

  I refused to meet his gaze. He’s the only vampire I know whose eyes change color to match his emotions, and I didn’t trust myself to resist what I’d see there. “Tell me about the scroll.” My voice came out gruff and throaty.

  He sat back and steepled his fingers on his stomach. “It was torn, but the part I found read, they can walk under the sun and count finite remaining sunsets once again, requiring breath and sustenance, and growing as nature and God meant Man to. At the time, I thought it was a blessing. Maybe part of a Christian Orthodox psalm. I knew nothing of their religion.

  “I kept my piece in a box, alongside my Viking shield and sword, but never thought to look more into it. When Ruby came to my dream, she told me she’d found a translation of an ancient script in the Romanian mountains. It mentioned a way to revive a specific type of Strigoi, as they call vampires. The latter part of the text matches what I found in Abydos, and it seems it would work on us.”

  Well, hello, new information. “Us?”

  He looked at his fingers. “It speaks about two immortals who’ve killed the ones who made them, assuming our understanding is correct.” His voice was low.

  “You’re hiding something,” I said.

  “Not hiding. I’m merely savoring the next part.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Spill.”

  He raised his head to face me. “The ritual involved calls for mutual draining”—mischief danced in his eyes and on his smirk—“during intercourse.”

  I laughed. The man knew how to relieve tension.

  “I’m absolutely serious, I’m afraid,” Constantine said. “Though if this is your reaction to the thought of us having sex, I have my work cut out for me.”

  I was wrong. No tension relieved, and now mental images of Constantine fucking my brains out came to add horniness on top of my stress. “You’re serious,” I half-said, half-asked.

  He gave a slow nod. “It could be worse.”

  “Yeah. Could involve ritual sacrifice.”

  “In a way, it does.” He frowned. “We’re supposed to drink from one another until we both die.”

  “But then we’re reborn.”

  His shrug was noncommittal. “Have you told your parents you’re moving back here?”

  “I left a note. I’ll fly back tomorrow and get my stuff. Say a proper goodbye.” Unlike last time, when I had no clue they knew about vampires, and I let them wait for my undead ass for more than six years.

  “I’ll join you,” he said. “But for now, you should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I suppose you’ll want to be back in time to see Sheena and the girls off.”

  Huh? “Off, where?”

  “They’re moving out tomorrow evening. I’m sure we’ll be reeled in to help with the last of their stuff.”

  “They’re moving out? You didn’t say anything.”

  “I thought Sheena did. You certainly talked a lot more to her than to me during your absence.” That didn’t sound whiny at all. “They made arrangements while we were in San Louis Obispo. Your chatty friend is returning to her modeling agency and offered to take on the young ladies as clients. Take them in too, I suppose, since she invited them to stay at her place. I didn’t think to mention it, because it wasn’t about me and it didn’t fall into the things-that-affect-you category.”

  He was right. It didn’t affect me. Except for the part where he and I would be left in his sexy mansion with no buffer between us other than an aging human butler. Once the women were gone, Constantine might start running around the mansion without a stitch on. That thought brought back memories of him naked, gleaming in the candlelight as he hovered over me, a wicked smile on his lips, and his blue eyes swirling with violet.

  Which made me realize—“You changed the subject.”

  “I did not.” He
sounded scandalized, to say the least, so I was pretty certain it was an act.

  “You so did. You said we had to drink from each other until we died, and then I said we’d be reborn, and you changed the freaking subject. You promised you wouldn’t hide anything else to do with me. Promised. Repeatedly.” That he’d had reason to do so more than once should’ve taught me something about his credibility.

  Constantine rolled his shoulders and straightened in his seat. When he looked at me, there was no humor in his gaze. “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Great. Now I have to know.”

  “This is about me. Not you.”

  I tilted my head to the side and studied his posture. His back was stiff, his shoulders square. His knuckles were even paler than the rest of him. “Is it about the ritual?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You should decide on your own whether you will return to your human nature or not.”

  “Tell me,” I said again.

  He huffed and stood in a fluid motion that had the satin of his pants clinging to him and defining every curve.

  “Your ass isn’t going to take my mind off this,” I told his sculpted back when he turned to look outside.

  “This ritual will make us as old as we’d be if we were never turned.”

  I wasn’t sure if he spoke the words or thought them at me, but they chilled me to the core. “That’ll make me thirty, but you... You will be—”

  “Gone.”

  I was up and in his face—yes, sandwiched between him and the floor-to-ceiling glass—in no time. “And you didn’t think that affects me? Were you not going to tell me at all? I’d wake up human, covered in your fucking dust?” I didn’t know what shocked me more—the fact that he’d keep this from me, or the searing agony twisting my gut at the thought of losing him forever. Not too long ago, I’d convinced myself I no longer cared if he lived or died.

  “Cherry...”

  “No. Fuck you. No.” I was crying.

  He wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t know what I was going to do,” he said. “I’ve been trying to think of a way out, but if there isn’t one... You never wanted this life, and I’ve lived a dozen lifespans. Maybe it’s my time.”

  “No. We’re not doing this. You’re not dying for me. And you’re a bastard for even considering it.” I shook off his hold and smacked his chest with my open palm.

  He took a step back, and I felt cold. Weird. Vampires don’t feel cold, unless we’re talking arctic temperatures.

  “I thought it was kind of romantic,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

  I scowled. “Jackass.”

  “Chivalrous, even.”

  “Asshole.” But a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

  “Yeah, I love you too.”

  The words were spoken lightly, but they landed like a punch to my stomach. He really did. I believed him before, but now I felt it in my core. And it left me shaken.

  “We should get some sleep,” I said. I’d adjusted to a human schedule for the past ten days, but being a vampire in L.A. was much easier by night, and I’d apparently remain a bloodsucker after all.

  Plus, it was a solid excuse to stop looking into Constantine’s soulful eyes.

  Chapter Three

  IT WAS WELL AFTER NOON, when Constantine and I left for my parents’ house. The sun was no longer an issue, but onlookers were, so we couldn’t fly there in the middle of the day. Alex had left his car at the mansion, and Constantine suggested we drive.

  I shouldn’t have agreed.

  I hadn’t seen Constantine drive since he took me to his place from the Vampire Social Services, early in my unlife. Memories of the debauchery that followed that ride combined with mental images of Alex behind the wheel—or fucking me on the hood, parked outside his mother’s house—and amplified the awkward silence between Constantine and me. It was odd, being with him and not talking, but I didn’t know what to say.

  I leaned against the passenger door, seeking out a semblance of space. It didn’t work. I felt Constantine’s presence as vividly as if we were pressed together.

  Maybe it was the ultra-naughty Constantine-centered dream I had during my beauty sleep. I was able to change it more than once, but my stubborn subconscious fleeted back to him every single time.

  Did he insinuate his way into my dreams?

  Was he reading my thoughts this very moment?

  No. He said he wouldn’t, and I’d drive myself crazy if I second-guessed that.

  I studied him. He wore jeans and a form fitting T-shirt that had become the norm after he and I broke up. While we dated, he was always impeccably dressed and coiffed, but I liked this hair-in-the-wind version more.

  His triceps bunched as he shifted gear, and I licked my lips. Shit. Better pray for no traffic.

  It was a frigging long three-and-a-half hours, and I pretended to sleep through much of it, when I wasn’t commenting on the weather.

  Mom and Dad were inordinately excited to see Constantine. There was hugging and kissing and pointed looks, rife with innuendo. No pancakes, though.

  Once we were done packing and loading the car, Mom ignored my glares and invited us to stay the night.

  “It’s almost seven, and it is a long drive,” Constantine said. “It may be a good idea.”

  It wasn’t. Our rooms at the mansion weren’t right next to each other. Here, we’d sleep a few feet apart—and Constantine slept in the buff. It was different when I had Alex in bed with me and a threat hung over our heads. Now there would be little to keep my mind occupied.

  Luckily, there was a valid reason for us to go back to L.A. tonight. “We can’t stay.” I tried to sound sorry. “We promised to help the girls with their move.”

  “Indeed.” The look Constantine gave me said he saw right through me. “But there is time for a cup of coffee, and Cherry has some news for you.”

  Damn it.

  I didn’t want to get my parents’ hopes up, when I saw no way around the pesky issue of needing to sacrifice Constantine to regain my humanity.

  “Really?” Mom ushered us to the kitchen and started the coffee maker.

  Dad sliced up some cake and joined us at the table. It was all so mundane and normal. I could have that. I slid my gaze to Constantine. No. The price was too high.

  He smiled. “Go on.”

  “Constantine may have found a way for me to become human again,” I said.

  The mug Mom held clanked against the counter. She looked at me, and the hope I meant to avoid shone in her eyes.

  It hurt that I had to squash it. “It’s not easy, and we don’t know if it’s even possible.”

  “It’s possible,” Constantine said.

  Dad reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “Whatever makes you happy makes us happy. We’ll love you the same, fangs or no fangs.”

  I wanted to fly into his arms. Instead, I turned my palm and gave his hand a squeeze. “We’ll look into it more. I’ll let you know what we find out, but it may not happen.”

  Constantine shrugged. He took the coffee my mom offered and pulled out a chair for her. “We’ll do our best to see it does.”

  Maybe I didn’t mind him dying, after all. I was minutes from staking him where he sat.

  A short and awkward conversation later—I mean, what plans could I have for the future, Dad?—I was beyond ready to go.

  More hugging and kissing and promising to keep in touch, all with a knot in my throat. This goodbye wasn’t permanent. It didn’t have to be a long one either; I could see them every weekend now on. I still wished I could stay with them a while longer. I was supposed to spend a couple months in my childhood home with a little R-n-R, gorging on Mom’s food without worrying about calories, and no boy drama. What more could I ask for?

  Oh right. To be human again. And I couldn’t have that either, without costing Constantine his unlife. Boo.

  Mom stuffed the trunk of the car with
bottles of Ruby’s brew. “I’ve kept some too, just in case,” she said.

  Constantine gathered her in a hug. “Thank you, Kathleen. If things work out, our little Gertrude won’t need it for long,” he said.

  I didn’t know whether to slap him for promising things he couldn’t deliver or for using my given name which I’d rather forget.

  The moment the car doors were closed and my parents couldn’t hear, I plastered a smile on my face and whispered, “Will you stop doing that?”

  “What?” Constantine waved at Mom and Dad and peeled off the driveway.

  “Making them believe it’s possible to have their daughter back.”

  “You are their daughter.”

  “You know what I’m saying. You let them think I’ll be human again.”

  He shook his head, gaze on the road. “After all this time, you have no faith in my problem-solving abilities.”

  “I have every faith on your problem-creating abilities, if that helps.”

  “It doesn’t.” He sounded sad, which shouldn’t bother me but did.

  “You said yourself I can only go back if I drain you to dust. That’s not an option.”

  This time, he turned to look at me. “I may have a solution to that.”

  Now I was the one getting my hopes up. I waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I asked, “Care to elaborate?”

  “I’ve been reading the text in a way that made sense to me, but I was wrong. For both of us to turn human, we must be consumed, but not necessarily consume each other. What if I drain you, while you feed from someone else to keep from dusting?”

  Someone else who’d be in the room while Constantine and I had sex? “Do you have someone in mind?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Alex. He’s of your bloodline. It may be an acceptable cheat, and if it doesn’t work, there’s no real loss.”

  We’d both still be around. Still vampires.

  There was one tiny problem. “How do we pitch that to Alex?”

  “Preferably over video chat.” Constantine chuckled. “I need to be able to see his face.”