by Roh Morgon
My life. I can’t believe how much and how fast it has changed. Last night was the final step to yet another new way of existence. I think about Charlene and the incredible pleasure we both experienced as I took her blood.
Nicolas was very supportive as he showed me how to use my nails to create small wounds so that I did not cause her unnecessary pain or damage. And Charlene was right, he was very gentle as well. Keeping a hand on her for reassurance as I took her arm, Nicolas encouraged me to go easy and not give in to the frenzy. He talked soothingly and stroked my hair, as though he was calming a frightened horse or a wild beast. His calming influence somehow kept me from losing my head to the rapture of feeding, and when he felt it was time, he was able to stop me without resorting to force.
I recall basking in the glow of her blood as I watched Nicolas use his own to seal her wounds. Charlene was in a similar state of bliss, all but oblivious to his ministrations, but she did manage to squeak out a thank you. The wounds healed completely, leaving no scars, and I was puzzled over the scars she did have, but decided to leave the question for another time.
I shake my head to clear it of last night’s memories and walk over to the closet to pick out something to wear.
As I open my door, the soft sounds of a violin float through the air. I head down the stairs to the music room and stand outside for a moment, listening to the caress of the bow on the strings. Smiling, I think of myself as the violin, and Nicolas as the bow, and how well he plays.
The music stops and Nicolas says, “Please, come in, Sunny.”
I open the door, grinning, and see him standing there, a wry smile on his face, eyes faintly tinged with red.
“Don’t tell me you can still feel what I feel,” I say in disbelief.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I can. To a small degree. Unfortunately, that is all it takes to get my own thoughts heading . . . in certain directions.” He smiles.
Oh.
“So last night was . . .” I try not to snicker, but I’m not successful.
“Very enjoyable, yes. It is interesting living vicariously through your emotions. It is an unanticipated experience that I am finding quite entertaining.” He smiles, slightly wicked this time.
“Well, thanks, I’m glad I keep you entertained. Speaking of, what was that beautiful piece I heard you playing?”
“Just a little composition on which I am working. I am pleased you like it.” He smiles, walks over to the Strad’s cabinet, and puts the violin and the bow away.
“Oh, you don’t need to stop. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I had completed that particular movement. Your interruption is quite welcome, in fact. I have been waiting for you to arise.” He closes the cabinet and walks back over to me.
He gently takes my shoulders, his green eyes warm, and says, “I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, I slept very well, as I have every morning since I’ve been here. I seem to need much less sleep than at home. Must be that wonderful bed. I’ll need to see about getting one.”
Nicolas nods and smiles, one of those secretive smiles that drives me crazy.
“What?” I look at him, trying to figure out what he is thinking.
“You are so . . . human sometimes. I find it most endearing.” He smiles and brushes my hair back from my face.
I step back and blink.
“Human? What part?” Surely not the part that feasts on blood.
“Ah. I suppose I could best explain it as your freshness and joie de vivre.” His knowing smile has a slight air of satisfaction, and now I’m feeling pretty clueless.
“O . . . kay.” Guess he can’t help being Mr. Mystery.
Strolling to the door, he says, “I need to go to Denver this afternoon to attend to some business. Would you like to come?”
“Yeah, that would be nice. Though I was kind of hoping we could go to my place so that I could get my car. I have a few errands myself that I need to take care of.” I notice a shift in his expression. “But we don’t have to do it today. Tomorrow would be fine.”
“May I ask why you feel it necessary to pick up your car? I have a whole garage full available. You are welcome to use any of them for your errands. Take the Ferrari. Or the Audi. Just let Alfonso know which one, and he will get it out for you.” He smiles, and whatever had bothered him the moment before seems to be gone.
I guess I could drive one of his cars. Though I do wish I had brought the BMW back with me the other day. But I haven’t really had any time to think about it, let alone anything else from my life before. Before Nicolas. Before the bear.
“We will likely not return until tomorrow, so you may want to pack a few things. I have another club there that also requires my attention, which will give you the opportunity to meet some of the Denver Chosen.”
I take a deep breath. Another club. And if Chosen are there, so will be their donors.
I force a smile.
“All right.”
“This will be a little different than your formal introduction to the Council members. These Chosen, as well as The Chosen here in the Springs, are at a . . . lower social rank. They will regard you as they do me, so please do not be overly concerned about meeting them.” He watches as I nod.
“Now I need to gather a few items myself and will meet you in the library when you are ready.”
I nod again, mulling over what he just said about The Chosen, and start to walk past him.
Nicolas reaches out and grabs my arm, and pulls me to him. He kisses me, softly, then with more urgency. I respond, pressing closer to him. His lips drift along my jaw, kissing a path to my temple, then into my hair. He softly inhales, breathing in my scent, and electricity runs up and down my body. With a final kiss on my forehead, he steps back, his crimson eyes full of emotion.
I take a breath and try to collect myself, and watch through a pink haze as he does the same.
“So, just for the record, as far as I know, I did nothing to instigate that,” I say, half-smiling.
Nicolas purses his lips, then smiles in defeat.
He caresses my jaw and I kiss his palm as it leaves my face.
“I will meet you in the library shortly,” he says as we walk out. I nod in response and hop back up the stairs.
The elevator across the aisle of the parking structure whirs and clanks to a halt. The doors open, revealing Nicolas, and I watch in admiration as he strides toward the car, briefcase in hand. He smiles as he approaches, looking every inch the GQ man in his black three-piece Armani and tieless burgundy dress shirt.
“How did it go?” I ask as he gets into the car.
“It was a typical board meeting, filled with debate about which companies to buy and which to sell and who to fire. Like all meetings, it took more time than necessary. But I find the board members tend to be more cooperative if allowed to have their say before voting. It makes them much more supportive of my decisions.”
His decisions. I shake my head.
The sleek red Ferrari roars to life and he pulls out of the parking space.
“And you? Did you enjoy your book?”
“It was nice to have some time to read.” I’d elected to read in the car rather than wait in his office in the prestigious Denver high-rise. Too many people between here and there, and I just don’t trust myself around them right now. He hadn’t pressed it.
As we head toward the outskirts of Denver, I recall something I meant to ask him earlier.
“Nicolas? Where’s Éva? I haven’t seen her in the last couple of days.”
“She returned to New York yesterday. She had been gone longer than planned and had urgent business she needed to attend to. She wished to say goodbye, but her plane left early in the morning while you were asleep.”
“And the other Elders? When did they leave?”
“They returned to their respective cities the morning after the Council meeting.”
“So they didn’t know about my . . . accident?”
&n
bsp; “No. They stay at the hotel when they visit and had already left for their homes when I finally reached you on the phone.”
Good. Hopefully they weren’t aware of the fight we had.
“Like the Elders, The Chosen you meet tonight will be curious, as they will be able to instantly detect that you are not of their lineage. Please keep in mind that your energy is quite unusual. It is similar to an Elder in its intensity, but not the same. They will be fairly intimidated and likely not to speak to you, in spite of their curiosity.” He glances at me as he guides the Ferrari through the traffic, then continues.
“But, if any do, it would be best to be vague as to your origins, and mentioning the West Coast will be sufficient.” He glances at me again, apparently trying to gauge my reaction to the idea of interacting with the others.
“Éva had cautioned me to be very careful of what I say with the Council members. I just assumed it wouldn’t be any different with other Chosen,” I reassure him.
“Good. I think you will do just fine.” He downshifts as he gets off the freeway into an industrial area. This club must be in a warehouse, too.
“Nicolas, I do have a question about the lineages. If I understand correctly from my reading, anyone who has been changed by the same Maker is of their lineage, right?”
“That is correct.”
“So will The Chosen that I meet tonight all be from one lineage, or from several, or . . . ?”
Nicolas chuckles.
“They are all from one lineage. Mine. As is every Chosen you have met so far.”
Every one of them?
“So, are there any other lineages in the area?”
“No, none in this part of the world. The others are mainly in Europe and Asia.”
I think about the various cities and countries his Elders are from.
“Are you saying that all of The Chosen in North and South America are of your lineage?”
“Yes.”
Wow. That is nearly . . . half the planet.
“Sunny, when I came to this country, I brought a handful of my Elders with me from Europe. I placed them in strategic cities in this hemisphere with the understanding that I would not allow any competing lineages. They swore their allegiance to me and regularly renew their vows. They must get my approval, and my participation, in order to bring any prospective Chosen into our lineage.”
My God. His need to control everything is stronger than I realized. I frown, suddenly feeling unsettled as I once again realize that he is someone who seems to always get exactly what he wants.
Nicolas glances at me and scowls.
Damn, he reads me just like a book.
“You need to understand that the situation in Europe became very chaotic and dangerous at one point. When Chosen are at war, it tends to engulf the human community as well. I came here with the intention of maintaining a peaceful existence and preventing a recurrence of the mayhem that had run rampant in other parts of the world.”
Oh.
I feel embarrassed as I realize—again—that I may have misread Nicolas’s motives.
He pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns his dark gaze on me.
“Are you finished judging me yet? Am I still found wanting?” His tone is deathly quiet, but it doesn’t hide the anger lying underneath.
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling mortified.
He shakes his head and pulls the car back out into traffic. We drive the rest of the way to the club in silence.
CHAPTER 43
Nicolas is strangely distant as I walk beside him to the front of the club, which appears from the outside to be nothing more than another warehouse. As we pass a line of people waiting to get in, they react with excited gasps and whispers. He nods to the two large bouncers at the entrance and one of them opens the door to let us in. Nicolas uncharacteristically goes through first, leaving me no choice but to follow.
We are immediately swept up in the sound and flashing lights of electronica music. I glance at Nicolas, expecting to see the disapproving expression I’d seen at the club in the Springs. But what I see instead brings me to a dead stop—and all I can do is watch.
What I see is Nicolas on the hunt.
He slowly walks through the dancers, stopping here and there, his dark eyes shining with intensity. His expression is openly predatory and yet the women dancers are drawn to him like moths to a flame. Several rub up against him as they dance and he softly snarls, but he doesn’t push them away. He continues to part the sea of dancers as he saunters through. They trail in his wake as though swept up in a net.
Once again he reminds me of a cheetah as it walks along the edges of a herd, sizing up the most likely target. He literally radiates danger, but the humans are falling all over themselves to get next to him.
A buzz ripples throughout the club as everyone becomes aware of his presence, and the highly charged atmosphere feels like it will explode.
Electricity races through me and the hunter springs to full alert. I fight to retain control as I watch Nicolas cross the room.
Other Chosen appear in the crowd that Nicolas left behind. The dancers quickly gravitate to them, seeking whatever they had hoped to get from the tall dark one who has just passed through their midst.
I’m suddenly surrounded by humans of both genders, their expressions and movements promising me unspoken delights, and the beast in me roars to life. I clench my jaw and try to walk in the direction Nicolas has gone.
A light-haired Chosen is instantly next to me, and he extends his elbow as he looks at me in apparent fascination. I accept and take it, grateful for the distraction from the willing bodies full of blood, and we work our way through the crowd.
At the back of the room, we pass between two large bouncers, through a black curtain, and into a darkened lounge populated with couches and low tables.
I breathe a sigh of relief as we stop and free myself from the Chosen’s arm. I look at him in gratitude and am startled by the intensity of his grey-green eyes.
“Thank you,” I say as my tension eases and control slowly returns.
“You are quite welcome. Mr. Ambrus said he’ll be here momentarily.” A nervous smile plays at his lips, then with a glance around, he continues.
“Your first time here at Club Vér?”
I thought that would’ve been obvious.
“Yes,” I answer in a neutral tone.
“It can be pretty overwhelming the first few times. The other clubs I’ve been to require a lot more discretion. Since this is invitation only, all of the attendees have been pre-screened.” He warms to his perceived role as guide and continues to talk.
“They come from all over the country. The selection of donors here is one of the best in the U.S. Even we have to apply in advance to get in, and most usually wait months to be accepted. But it’s so worth it. I usually—”
“Thank you, Will. You may go now,” Nicolas says as he enters through a door at the far end of the lounge.
“Thank you, sir.” Will bows to Nicolas. “Miss.” He nods to me as he leaves through the black curtain.
I watch Nicolas as he approaches. His pale green eyes tell me what he’s been doing since I saw him disappear into the crowd, and I feel the hunger stir again at the thought.
“Why did you just leave me—” I demand.
“Not here. Come.” His clipped tone irritates me even further.
But instead of arguing, I nod and follow him back the way he’d just come and into a long hallway. Just a short distance down the hall, we enter a stairwell that leads to a second level and ends at a door. I follow him upward and wait silently on the landing while he just as silently keys in the access code.
This room is much larger than his office at the other club and much more luxurious. The opposite wall is darkened glass from one end to the other and overlooks the main dance floor, its pulsing lights illuminating the writhing bodies below. Several elegant sofas line the window, bracketed by small round
tables.
I continue to the center of the room, arms folded, then turn around to face him and wait for his explanation.
Nicolas quietly closes the door and pauses with his back to me, his hand resting on the wall. He then slowly turns and looks at me with a red-laced intensity that sends a chill down my spine. He approaches, his piercing gaze locked onto me. Then, too fast for me to even register, he picks me up and cradles my body against his chest, his crimson eyes never leaving mine.
He strides across the room to a door at the far end that’s slightly ajar and shoves it open as we pass through. The room is lavishly decorated in deep reds and black, but all I really notice is the large circular bed in the middle. He reaches back with his foot and kicks the door shut.
Éva, despite all of her centuries, had no idea what she was talking about.
I arch my back and stretch my arms and legs, enjoying the feel of the silk sheets on my naked skin. Nicolas left a few minutes ago and I think back over the last several hours. He’s had five hundred years to hone his skills in bed, and I’m pretty sure they’re unmatchable.
Human-type lovemaking was something that Éva said The Chosen don’t care to do. But obviously Nicolas doesn’t seem to mind, in spite of the fact that I don’t think it was as fulfilling for him as it was for me. I guess maybe he wanted to see just how much of me was still human. Well, we both found out that some parts very much are.
But his Chosen passion for me was kept under restraint—a restraint that left him nearly vibrating as he fought to keep his teeth from my throat, and a restraint that was sorely tested by my eagerness to feel those fangs again. When I protested, he murmured something about the preciousness of human lovemaking and how he wanted me to enjoy it one last time before I discovered the raptures of Chosen love.
And then he very quickly made me forget why I protested at all.
