by A. C. Mason
“Huh?”
He smiled. “It’s part of tonight’s surprise.”
“Don’t rush. The streets are icy.”
Her concern touched him. Since Thursday, they’d spoken and gotten off every night on the phone. “I will be extra careful.” After the accident last January, when he’d lost control of his car and killed a man by Georgetown University, he was extra careful. Winter tires, and he avoided driving at all in bad visibility. Though Vaihan couldn’t die, he could hurt others. “See you soon, beaute.”
“Muah. ’Bye.”
Vaihan smiled. The woman had him wrapped around her finger.
He emailed Peter to let him know they’d be a little later than expected then locked the doors. The place was a block and a half over. No use in driving. His breath misted in the cool November night as he walked. Christmas lights decorated the lampposts on his route and shops were filled with great gift ideas. A jeweler displayed rings, necklaces and earrings. One caught his eye. A sapphire heart with a key in the center set against a white gold necklace. The contrast against Leera’s skin would be beautiful. Christmas was just around the corner, and it couldn’t hurt to start thinking about what to get her. Her birthday was this weekend. In fact, Meg had emailed him about a surprise gathering at Leera’s house later this week.
The neon sign of the Blue and Red Diner shone among a sea of Christmas decorations. The place was packed. Inside, Ralph got up from his table as Vaihan crossed the street. A girl dressed in a pink outfit with white leotards dropped her doll. Ralph picked it up and handed it back to the child and smiled. The mother nodded.
Vaihan reached the sidewalk in front of the building. A loud bang shook the ground. Fire shot from the glass restaurant front as the windows imploded, sending debris flying. The force hit his chest, lifting him off the ground.
Leera!
His body slammed onto a car. Pain ripped through him. A group ran behind a truck. Another blast of dragon’s breath seared his flesh. He gritted his teeth from the agony. The scent, touch, and feel of Leera played in his mind. Would this scare her away?
All those people inside. Gone. Blood seeped from Vaihan’s ears and pieces of glass were imbedded in his flesh. His head pounded. Muffled sirens wailed around him while flashing lights in the distance drew nearer. He’d always envied vampires, with their inability to feel pain. His kind got the raw end of that deal.
He stumbled. The ringing in his ears messed up his balance.
A child’s scream broke through above the muffled noises, and he ran into the breath of the flames. With his jaw pressed closed, he tried to hold in the anguish of his searing flesh. Motionless, bodies burned in the same spots they had been in when the blast occurred. At the entrance next to him, the young mother lay over her child, her front charred to a cinder. He rolled her body. Tears mixed with ash on the little girl’s face.
The child screamed, “Mommy!”
Her clothing was burned, and he removed his jacket, smothered the flames and carried her out.
Two firemen rushed to him. “How many more?”
The undead burning in the blaze would shut down completely to stop the pain from making them insane. “None alive.” He shook his head. If there were more alive, he’d smell them. “Six undead.”
“What?”
The older one took the child from him and carried her to the ambulance.
Vaihan kept walking, his vision blurred. A rumble vibrated through him and he ran to the young firefighter, tackled him, and shielded the man with his body as agony scorched him to the bone. Heat shredded through him. The ground shook.
A fireman covered him in a blanket, extinguishing the fire on his back. And lifted skin as he pulled it back. Fuck, that hurt! Paramedics ran over to them, and Vaihan stood. Pain rippled through him, and his hands quivered from the discomfort.
“You just saved my life.” The young man’s eyes widened.
“Don’t mention it.” The winter’s cold relieved the burns on his flesh. He stumbled to his knees, breathing labored, and closed his hands into fists, shaking from head to toe.
Cold. Fire. Pain. Steam.
“Shit.” Down he went.
Chapter 21
Leera paced her living room floor next to the phone. Where was he? Eight thirty, on the grandfather clock next to her fireplace. She didn’t want to call and come off any needier than she already was. Maybe the sex on the phone had become weird for him. What kind of woman could engage in such stuff when apart, but not when with him? A damaged one.
A knock came at her door. She ran over and opened it.
Her brother was alone. “Peter?”
“Get your jacket, Leera.”
“Why? Has something happened?” She couldn’t bear it. Not again.
“Please, get your jacket. I will explain on the way.” Peter’s tone was stern.
Still, he treated her like a child. “Okay.”
She rushed inside, grabbed her coat, locked the door and hurried over to Peter’s new minivan.
Peter started the van and backed out of her driveway. “There was an explosion.”
She closed her eyes.
“Vaihan was injured, but is recovering. I spoke with him. He felt it best I bring you to the hospital to see him. He should be released later this evening.”
Oh God. She couldn’t go through this again. No way, no how. Why had she opened herself to feeling anything? She didn’t. Vaihan was a means to an end to keep her brother out of Guantanamo Bay. People went there and never came back. And she was just a means to an end for Vaihan to get to Peter. She wasn’t cut out for this.
“It’s all over the news. Only Vaihan and a small child he pulled from the building survived. She’s in critical condition. There is a lot of security and media at the hospital. Vaihan asked that you not respond to any questions from reporters. He is set to make a statement at eleven PM, which has been approved by the president.”
She nodded.
“We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” Peter glanced over at her.
How could she cower out of this? When Jean died, two uniformed officers had come to the door. Peter had driven her to the hospital. She’d had to see Jean. The coroner had warned her, but as usual she hadn’t listened. The only image she had left of him in her mind was of his crushed body.
“I’m fine, really.” For the next few days, she’d go through the motions and pull back. She couldn’t lose someone else she cared for.
“All right.” Peter pulled into a parking spot.
News crews took up stations near their network trucks. CPD cruisers patrolled the area. Peter slipped his hand in hers, as he led her past the shouting. A question lingered in the air. “Are you Mr. Louchian’s girlfriend?”
Hood over her face, she kept walking, guided by Peter’s heavy strides. Once inside, he inquired about directions. She clutched his arm, hands clammy, as he led her down the corridor and stopped in front of a door.
“I’ll be right here.” He sighed.
“Don’t wait. I’ll be a while.” Leera let go of him and took a deep breath. What would she find inside?
Peter nodded. “If you need anything, call me. Including a ride home.”
Vaihan’s laughter carried into the hall, rushing her footsteps. Her legs felt as stiff as boards. He sat at the edge of the bed and a man wearing a lab coat took a photo of his upper body.
“You better not sell those on eBay.” Vaihan chuckled.
“Why would I, when I could make a fortune selling them to Playgirl?” The man forced a sinister laugh.
Other than a few scrapes and bruises, he looked fine. How could this be?
“You look gorgeous.” Vaihan’s gaze met hers. “Marty, some time, please.”
The man nodded and walked past her.
Tears poured from her eyes. Her legs buckled beneath her. Vaihan scooped her into his arms. Had she imagined him at the bed?
“Guess you wanted me to come to you?” Vaihan smiled. “I’m
not too steady with the dosage of painkillers they gave me, so let’s take a seat on the bed.” He guided her to the mattress.
As she stood in front of him, her heart pounded in her ears. “I don’t understand.”
“My body cannot be destroyed, no matter the damage. We rejuvenate, grow new limbs if needed.” His hand rested on her shoulder. “Pain is another matter. We feel it in spades.”
“I didn’t know what to expect when Peter came for me.” She’d yet to let herself feel anything.
“I sent him, as I didn’t want anything to happen to you on your way here.” Vaihan pulled her into him and pressed his head to her chest. “The only thought in my mind was you.”
The hospital gown gaped open in the back, revealing charred flesh. She wrapped her hands around his neck. Vaihan could never die. Death wasn’t an issue with him. His warmth crept into her veins, pumping a surge of burning hope into her heart.
“You’re very quiet.” Vaihan sat back and stared at her.
The smooth feel of his skin beneath her fingers drew her touch under the material to his scar. Heat flickered in his pupils.
“I’m amazed, relieved and in need of you.” She kissed the top of his head.
He cupped her face in his hand, dimple visible.
“Tell me about what happened, how you were changed. How you became what you are now.”
He scooted to the wall. “Sit with me.”
Leera climbed on next to him.
Vaihan’s mouth pressed to hers, and heat burst against her lips like warm honey. A moan whimpered from her throat. Would he take her? At that very moment, every part of her ached to know him.
He withdrew his embrace. “When I was a boy, my sister Iskra and I would climb the hills near our little village. We lived near cliffs and water. Iskra was six years my senior and spoiled me. We got into a tug over some flowers at the top of the cliff, and she fell to her death. My parents blamed me. They sent me away so as not to have to look at me. I was the servant to a military officer. The man I served taught me, trained me to kill and strategize then guided my way into the military. Angry with myself for what happened with Iskra, I blossomed into a brutal killer, feared by my own troops. Without fear of death, I fought. A woman lured me from my men for the pleasure of her body. Pretty young thing, rumored to be a witch–a Gypsy, Mirela.” He sighed. “I can hardly remember. She seemed nervous. I offered to leave. She begged me to stay and kissed me. Her eager mouth was inexperienced. Her body held scars she wouldn’t speak of. The night ended with the loss of her innocence. I didn’t force her. I fell asleep with her tucked in my arms.”
Leera took his hand in hers. “Then?”
“Her crying woke me. An ancient stood over me, effortlessly overpowered me. I reached for my weapon. His teeth pierced my chest, paralyzing me with the toxin and heightened my senses. I drifted in and out of consciousness. Then woke with a hunger like none I’d ever known. Gunari–the one who cursed me with this existence–and I terrorized the Ottoman Empire. When the urge calmed inside me, all I saw was a path of death and destruction behind me. And we parted ways.”
“Were you lovers?”
“Yes. While in the urge, the insatiability is more powerful than you. All morality and logic melts away. He and I shared everything–meals, women, other men and a bed.” He met her gaze. “Does this knowledge disgust you?”
Leera shook her head. One more thing about him she found intriguing.
“The urge is a hunger for all primal needs to be fulfilled. My kind’s hunger is difficult to understand.”
“Do you desire tasting me?”
“Yes. I cannot change what I am.” He brushed hairs from her face. “However, I would never hurt you, despite the inner battle raging.”
Could he hold to that promise, or would the temptation she represented break through even his boundaries?
* * * *
Leera stood back with Stacy, Vaihan’s assistant, on the lawn of the hospital. Lights flashed. Others shone on him, as he read the president-approved message about tonight’s events. Body count of twenty. Six undead were pulled after the fire was extinguished and were mending in hospital. A natural gas leak was suspected, but arson had yet to be ruled out. No organization claimed responsibility for the bombing. The young girl he’d saved was in critical yet stable condition. He thanked them for coming, turned toward her and smiled.
“What’s your association to the late Senator Waltz’s daughter?” a male reporter shouted from the group.
Vaihan stopped, met her gaze and spun back toward the press. “I’m quite fond of Ms. Waltz.”
“Are you seeing her?”
“Exclusively.”
Leera pressed her lips together.
“Romantically?”
“I am a tad out of practice, but I do hope our courtship has been romantic to Ms. Waltz.”
She hadn’t expected Vaihan to publicly admit to their relationship. This would complicate things with Rowley.
Vaihan strode toward her, placed her hand in his and guided her back inside.
“I need you to sign off on a number of documents.” Stacy held a stack of papers to his body. His large bald head didn’t fit his slender body. His gaze, with its dark pupils, drifted from Leera back to Vaihan, who lifted his finger, indicating to Stacy he needed a moment with her alone. His assistant nodded and walked over to the administrative desk a few yards away.
“I have some paper work to complete. Would you like for me to arrange for someone to take you home or do you want to wait?”
“I’ll wait,” Leera said.
Vaihan leaned in. “Will you come home with me?” A vulnerable quality lowered the pitch of his voice.
Her heart fluttered with a need to reassure him that she would be there for him.
She nodded.
In the uneasy state she was in, if she left, she’d run as fast and as far as she could. No way could she do that to Peter. Her brother was becoming an excuse she used to comfort herself as to why she couldn’t keep away from Vaihan. Truth was, despite the reason for her original involvement with him, she needed this–him–the way he managed to pull out of the darkness.
He smiled, kissed her forehead and joined Stacy.
People gazed at him with a tremendous amount of respect. The same admiration she’d remembered as a child in the eyes of people looking at her father. What she did know was her father was nothing he pretended to be. So far, Vaihan was everything he portrayed himself to be. And much more.
* * * *
Leera leaned against Vaihan’s chest. His large hand stroked her head as she listened to the beat of his heart.
Neither spoke. He too, appeared lost in thought. The taxi stopped in front of a brownstone, and Vaihan handed the driver cash. She got out. Frigid air blew snow in squalls. From the outside, the place looked like any other house on the street. Nothing screamed undead people lived there.
Wind blew up her beige three-quarter-length jacket. Vaihan held out his hand for her and she slipped her arm around his.
“I don’t think the three roomies will be up at this time.” Vaihan pulled the key from the sweatpants the hospital provided and unlocked the door. He gestured her in.
Nearly three in the morning, and her eyes felt heavy with sleep. Soft lighting washed over the foyer. A red runner covered the oak floors.
The door closed behind her and Vaihan’s arm wrapped around her waist. “Ms. Waltz?”
As she met his gaze, his dark pupils widened.
“I’m falling for you fast.” The tip of his nose trailed up the bridge of hers. “If you’re a dream, let me not wake.” He kissed her forehead.
Pain rippled through her. Her own heart was tangled up in a web of lies, yet she desperately needed this, whatever this was with him.
“This way.” He guided her up the stairs in front of her.
A figure stood in the archway of the hall on the second floor in the dark. “Vaihan. Sam and Quinn were in a panic about what happen
ed. Did you not think to call home?”
“Leera, my room is the one as you reach the next floor.” He pointed up the stairs.
He wasn’t going to introduce her. She continued up. A large dark door faced her, so she turned the handle and entered. Voices below were muffled in the distance. An imposing black four-poster bed occupied the center of the room and soft yellow lighting warmed the space. A beige carpet and white walls, and the fluffy white duvet covering the king sized bed didn’t scream evil lair to her. More simple elegance, much like Vaihan.
She set her handbag on the nightstand opposite the one with the alarm clock, removed her jacket, sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed her upper arms.
“If you like, I can turn the heat up?” Vaihan leaned against the shut door.
She jumped. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see you’ve claimed your side of the bed.” The corner of his mouth turned up, revealing his dimple.
“Women do that.”
“Would you like a t-shirt to sleep in? Mine could serve you as a nightgown.”
“If naked doesn’t suit you, then yes.” She winked.
But an inch from her, he knelt.
She rubbed her eyes. Twice in one night, he’d moved faster than she could register. “How did you do that?”
Warmth flooded her cheeks as he cupped her face, and the chill she’d felt since Peter appeared at her door left her.
“It’s something my kind can do. Most of us don’t because it makes humans feel fragile. But we both know you hold all the power in this relationship. I’m at your mercy.”
If only he knew how wrong he was.
“I don’t expect anything from you because you’re here tonight, nor due to what we’ve shared on the phone.”
“I do.” Her anticipation level was high.
“I’m at your service, beaute.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid onto his lap. “I thought I lost you today.” A tear trailed along her cheek.
“I’m so very sorry.” He stroked her hair back, lifting her gaze to his. “I want to kiss you to the point my body aches. Yet, I can’t kiss you, not the way a mouth like yours should be kissed.”
