Crave

by Karen E. Taylor

  “I thought we’d just go to my place, if that’s okay?”

  “Hmm?” I had been staring out the window, contemplating Jean’s death and Larry’s duplicity. “Bastard.”

  “What?” Sam’s voice was shocked and I laughed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you, honest.” I reached over and laid my hand softly on his arm. “I meant Larry.”

  “Oh, well, then, that’s okay. He is that.”

  He drove for a little while longer without speaking, concentrating on navigating the congested streets.

  “Are you okay, Deirdre?”

  “No, Sam, I’m not. Everything has gone wrong. I’ve unleashed a psychopathic vampire on the world. One who has no morals, no scruples. I have no way to gauge his powers, and I feel like I’m losing ground with each waking minute. You see, Jean was number three. Nine more and it will be my turn. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything to stop him when he comes for me.”

  He pulled his car in front of a high-rise apartment building. “We’re here.”

  “Where?”

  “My place. I asked you if it was okay.”

  I gave a tired laugh. “Any place is fine, Sam.”

  The attendant came around and opened my door, then held my hand as I got out. Then he went to the other side and collected Sam’s keys.

  I remained silent on the elevator ride to his apartment. He put an arm around me again when we stopped on his floor and led me down the hallway, then unlocked his door.

  “Find a seat,” he said, taking off his suit coat and draping it over a chair at his dining room table. “I’m going to have a beer. Would you like one?”

  “Beer?” I said the word as if I wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Sure, that would be fine.” I sat down in one of his overstuffed chairs and curled my legs underneath me. Sighing, I stretched my head back over the neck of the chair, flipping my hair up and over the back.

  “You drink beer?”

  I smiled, remembering how he’d reacted when he first discovered that there was something different about me. “Yes, I can drink almost anything. And haven’t we been through this before? That time over at Mitch’s place when you thought I was an alien?”

  “Yeah.” He was bending over the refrigerator and brought two cans out. I watched him wipe the tops of the cans with a towel. “That was a pretty stupid thing for me to say, wasn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “That you were an alien.” He laughed nervously. “I really felt like an idiot when I finally realized the truth.” He reached up into a cabinet, brought down two beer mugs and came into the living room. He set his beer and mug down at the table opposite from where I was sitting, then turned to me. “Here you go,” he said, handing me the mug first and then pouring half of the beer into it. He set the can on a glass end table next to my chair and rubbed his hands together briskly. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, this will be fine.”

  “Do you mind if I order myself a pizza? I’m starved, but I don’t want to eat it in front of you if it’s a problem.”

  “As long as you don’t expect me to eat some, it’s not a problem at all. Besides, it’s your stomach, go for it.”

  “Thanks.” He picked up the phone, placed his order and sat on the couch across from me. He poured his beer and took a long drink. “Ah, that’s better. I was getting pretty dry towards the end there.”

  “Yes,” I cradled my drink in my hands and took a sip, “I felt the same. That was a pretty terrible session, I guess.”

  “Well, I could say that I’ve sat through worse. But,” his eyes lit up in a smile, “I’d be lying. Although almost all of the serious discussions you and I have had have been of the same intensity. I have to admit that I was surprised.”

  “Why?”

  He laughed again. “This is probably going to sound just as dumb and lame as the alien comment, but I can’t help it. You’re the first and only vampire I’ve ever met.”

  I interrupted him. “But you knew Jean.”

  “Yeah, that’s true, but I didn’t know she was a vampire until just this morning. That, as I’m sure you can imagine, was a huge shock.” He shook his head and took another drink of his beer. “But, I’m getting all mixed up here. That’s not what I wanted to say.”

  “Go ahead, Sam. Take your time. I’m listening.”

  “Okay then.” He drained his mug and poured the rest of the can into it. “Since you were the first vampire I ever met, I just naturally assumed they were all like you. Not monsters, but civilized, genteel, beautiful creatures. Creatures trying to live in balance with humanity and the world.” He chuckled, then his expression saddened. “I guess I got this idealized vision of what you were, and even though I knew that sometimes things went wrong with a few, like Max or Larry, I still thought of you all as gods, or super-human beings that could solve the world’s problems. Disease, wars, poverty, famines, they were all in your reach to change. You are practically invincible, you never grow old or sick or die. Somewhere along the line I thought that there should be a higher purpose in a vampire’s life than getting drunk in the park and killing each other. You, as a race or a species or whatever, have been given such a wonderful gift. Immortality could be such a blessing. But then I find out that vampires are driven by human emotions and in some cases the baser of those emotions at that.”

  “So, you have been disillusioned. The godlike race of creatures that you thought would solve the problems of humankind, only end up adding to them.”

  “Well, yeah, something like that. Pretty stupid, isn’t it?”

  “No, Sam, it makes perfectly good sense. We all waste our lives and my species is no different than any other in that respect.” I took another sip of my beer and stared into the mug. “I’m not sure if I can explain it. But I’ll try. The eternal years begin to weigh on you after a while. You can’t stay in any one place for too long without people beginning to wonder why you haven’t aged, why your lifestyle is different from everyone else’s. So any thought of devoting a lifetime to a career of doing good for people is out of the picture. You cannot endure the daylight, so about fifty percent of your time is spent being pent up inside.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been wondering about the daylight thing. Studies these days show that a certain amount of sunlight is important to human mental health. Some people go crazy after a while when denied the sun.”

  I nodded. “I can’t confess to knowing the origin of the vampire species, Sam, but I can vouch for the fact that I was once human. Most of the time I think that I still am. And I know that lack of sunlight is a problem for me. There are times when I long for it, when just the thoughts of being able to feel the warmth on my face can move me to tears.”

  “But that all still doesn’t explain why you can’t do something with your lives.”

  “No, it doesn’t. That, I think, is the fault of the hunger. We are all driven by our need for human blood. It is an addiction of the worst kind. We cannot survive without it. And to get it we must prey on humans.” I met his eyes and held him to me. “Don’t ever make the mistake of underestimating that interrelationship, Sam. You and I may be friends, I may be everything that you said I was—civilized, genteel, and beautiful. But if you kept me locked in this room for more than a week, I would be hungry for your blood. If denied it for too long, I would eventually be forced to take it. We must feed, we crave the blood. Oh, I could make you believe that you wanted to give it, but it would still be a taking and a rape of your being.”

  We were both breathing heavy when I had finished. His was due to fear and excitement; I could smell both emotions clearly from where I sat. But my problem was different. To my embarrassment the talk of feeding had triggered my instincts. My gums were tingling and my canines were growing. I put both hands over my mouth to hide them, but he could not have missed the rush of arousal that shone in my eyes.

  He drained the rest of his beer in his glass, and walked over to me, his eyes still locked in m
ine.

  “Go away, Sam,” I said, my words muffled behind my hands. “Go into the next room and stay away from me, until I’ve calmed down.”

  “How could you ask such a thing, Deirdre, when you’re the hunter and I’m the prey? Would you turn down a willing sacrifice? I just want to know what it’s like.”

  “Sam, please. I’m not really hungry.”

  He pulled my hands away from my mouth, and pulled me up to stand in front of him. “You once said you couldn’t lie to me, why are you doing it now? Do you want my blood?”

  “Sam,” I tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but my voice shook and betrayed me. “You don’t want this to happen, you really don’t.”

  “Why not? Will it hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Will it kill me?”

  “No.”

  “Will it help you?”

  “Damn it, Sam, yes, it will help me. You’ve sent me deep into the hunger now. I have no choice but to feed. Either on you or on someone else.”

  “Then feed on me. I’m here and I’m willing. And it will help me to understand, too.”

  “Dr. Samuels,” I snaked my arms up around his neck and pulled his head down to my level, “I think you must be crazier than your patients.”

  “Don’t talk, Deirdre. You’ve done nothing but talk about being a vampire since I’ve known you. Show me what it’s like.”

  I hadn’t had a willing victim in a long time. In fact, not counting Mitch, it had been since I had convinced Larry to let me feed on him in the cellars of the Ballroom. There was a heady sensuous feel in this man giving himself to me.

  I put my mouth up to his neck. My tongue emerged to lick his skin, drinking and savoring the tang of sweat and salt. He moaned and held me closer to him, rubbed himself against me so that I could feel the extent of his arousal, his surrender. His hand came around behind my head and he tangled his fingers in my hair, holding my mouth to him.

  “Oh,” he moaned again, as I continued to lick the surface of his neck in preparation of my bite. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I heard laughter. So he wanted to feel the kiss of a vampire, did he? Then let’s give him his money’s worth.

  My hand reached over and pulled at his hair, bending his neck further down so that I could feed without stretching. I continued to lick him, and he began to stroke my back and my behind with his other hand. “Ahhh,” I took my mouth from his neck for a minute and licked my lips. Then I brought my teeth full into him and he cried out. It didn’t matter whether it was passion or pain, we were both too far gone to care.

  My fangs split through the surface of his skin and I sucked on him, drawing his blood deep into my mouth, taking swallow after swallow of the bitterness of him. His body pounded up against me as I drank, and from his heavy breathing I knew that he was close to orgasm. And still I drank from him, deeply, taking much more than I needed, more than I had meant to take. He was gasping for air, but his hand was firm on the back of my neck, holding my mouth to him, asking me to take more and still more.

  Then I felt the pulse in his neck falter and finally pulled my mouth away. He fought to keep me there, but now I was stronger. I had always been stronger, I realized. I could have resisted the temptation he offered, but I had wanted this seduction as much as he. I switched my grip from his neck to his shoulders and grasped him, probably with more roughness than was necessary, leading him to the couch, laying him down. I stood over him for a moment and shook my head in disgust. Then I bent down and checked his pulse. It was weak, but steady.

  His eyes fluttered open and fastened on me. “I had no idea it would be like that,” he said, his voice breathless and raspy.

  “The hell you didn’t, Sam. You brought me up here for this very reason.”

  “It’s true,” he said, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his neck, “that I wanted to see what it was like. If not to feed, then to be fed on. But I hadn’t expected . . .”

  “What hadn’t you expected? You didn’t think you’d like it? But I told you you would.”

  “No, you said you could make me like it, make me think I wanted you to feed. That’s not what happened.”

  “No,” I agreed, checking his pulse again, “that is not what happened. And what happened can never happen again.”

  “You’re angry, aren’t you? Why? You were only doing what you needed to do to survive. You were helping me with an important research question: Why do vampires not accomplish anything in their long life spans? And now I know. Or I think I do. That kind of experience can only lead to the desire for more. I would imagine after years, it would become overwhelming.”

  “Yes. Isn’t that what I said? You could have just believed me.”

  He smiled up at me. “Don’t be mad, Deirdre. I’m a doctor, after all. And a very curious one at that, or I wouldn’t have become a psychiatrist.”

  I smiled back at him in spite of my anger. “And curiosity killed the cat. You’re lucky you didn’t find some other vampire to do your research with. A response like yours could get you drained completely dry.”

  The doorbell rang and he got up from the couch to answer it. “It’s probably the pizza,” he said, checking through the peephole. “Yep, dinner time for Sam, now.” He opened the door, took the pizza from the delivery boy and held it out to me. “Hold this for me, Deirdre, while I pay.”

  I walked over, took the box from him and set it on the kitchen counter. Then I opened up the refrigerator and removed two more beers. “Think fast,” I called and tossed a can to him as he was closing the door.

  “Hey!” He spun around, caught it and laughed. “Don’t shake up the beer.”

  I went into the living room and curled back up into my chair, studying his movements through lidded eyes. His movements were quick and not at all sluggish, which is what I would have expected. He came in and sat on the couch again, the pizza box in one hand and the beer in his other. He set the beer on the end table and pulled a piece of pizza from the box. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I eat in front of you?”

  “Eat your pizza, Sam. Believe me, I’m not hungry.”

  Chapter 24

  I watched him devour the entire pizza. He made no apology for his voracious appetite and for once I didn’t mind. He had, after all, spent the entire day at my side, watching over me. He had brought me back to his apartment and fed me, as if he knew what I needed more than I did.

  And his supposition was right. I no longer felt dull and sluggish. His vibrancy and life was now flowing through my veins, and I was renewed, reborn. I sipped on my beer and smiled indulgently at him as he wolfed down the last piece.

  “Good?” I asked him at last, as he wiped away the tomato sauce that clung to his lips. He crumpled the napkin and put it into the empty box.

  “It was wonderful. And I was starved. I mean I was hungry before, but afterwards . . .” He rolled his eyes and I laughed again. “I mean you want to talk about a gigantic case of the munchies, that one had to take the cake.”

  “Or the pie.”

  He groaned. “That was a very bad joke, Deirdre.”

  “Sorry, I’m not feeling particularly witty right now.”

  “What are you feeling?”

  I could almost hear his shrink mode kick in and it annoyed me. “What’s this all about, Sam? Feed the vampire, then analyze her? Pin her down on your charts for manic depression?”

  “No, I just wanted to know how you felt. You seemed upset before we got here. I was curious to know if the feeding helped. Obviously not. I’m sorry I asked.”

  My anger disappeared as fast as it came. “No, I’m sorry, Sam. You didn’t deserve that remark. I’m feeling better. Less anxious and more relaxed. Better able to cope with what’s happening. How did you know?”

  “That you needed to be fed?”

  I nodded.

  “I didn’t, not really. But you were so pale and so tired, I figured it couldn’t hurt. And guess what?” He rubbed his neck again where I had bit him. “It didn
’t hurt either one of us.”

  “Not physically, no. But I worry about the friendship and the professional relationship we had.”

  “We still have them. I gave you something you needed when you needed it. It didn’t cost me much and was very pleasurable for me to give. Where’s the harm in that?”

  “No harm, I’m just not used to looking at it in those terms, I guess. Taking a willing victim is a lot more,” and I felt myself blushing, “well, intimate than picking one from off the streets. It feels different.”

  “Well, if it makes you uncomfortable we won’t make a habit out of it, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  He rose from the couch and gathered up the pizza box and the empty beer cans. “Be right back,” he said, “don’t go away.”

  He put the garbage into the can in the kitchen, then disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later he came back, his hand fingering his neck still.

  “Does that hurt?” I asked with concern. “If it does, it shouldn’t.”

  “No, I was just looking at it in the mirror. Doesn’t even make that much of a hickey. I’m betting that all traces of it will disappear in a day or two. You want another beer?”

  I gestured to my full glass. “I don’t need one right now, but thank you.”

  He glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. “And I have to go back to work in a couple of hours, so I’d better switch to something a little softer.”

  He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of ginger ale. “This is better.”

  Then he settled back in on the couch. “So,” his voice was now professional, even the way he sat seemed different, “what do you think about the Larry Martin situation now?”

  “I understand a little better now how he manages these murders, but that won’t help us stop him, or even catch him. And it doesn’t help at all with the powers he’s developed. He’s still capable of slipping into a room without anyone knowing he’s there.”

  “Have you ever known a vampire who got paralyzed from drinking wine?”

  I thought for a minute and smiled. “I never have. I’ve never even gotten drunk. Neither has anyone else I’ve ever come into contact with.”