The Vampire Jerome

by Ann B. Morris

  Jerome motioned for her to precede him to the kitchen. Inside, she went directly to the stove, lit the fire under the kettle and took down a cup and saucer from the overhead cabinet.

  “I apologize for being such a hard-ass back there,” Jerome said.

  She turned around, a fresh tea bag in her hand. “The apology isn’t necessary. I didn’t see the importance of following your instructions at the time, but I do now.”

  “Ella or Dennis will be happy to accompany you whenever you feel the need to get out of the house. I imagine it’s been difficult being restricted for so long. Before all this happened were you the outdoors type?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am an outdoors type of sorts. I’d much rather plant a garden than cook a stew. And exercise was a regular part of my daily routine, until . . . until Katrina.”

  She passed her hand over her arm to ward off a chill. Would everything she did forever be prefaced by that horrible disaster and the hell it had put her through?

  In time it will all fade.

  She looked at Jerome and smiled again. I certainly hope so.

  She turned back to the stove. Jerome’s mind touched hers again. You’ve caught on quickly.

  I’ve always been told I’m a fast learner. Did her unspoken words impart the humor she intended?

  Behind her Jerome chuckled and she heard the scrape of a chair across the tile floor. When she turned around he was seated at the glass-topped table by the bay window. She prepared her tea with cream and sugar then joined him at the table.

  “There are lots of stars out tonight,” Jerome said, looking out at the inky blackness.

  “What does that mean?” She sipped her tea.

  Jerome chuckled again. “It means there are a lot of stars out tonight.”

  They both laughed. She liked the sound. It was the first pure expression of joy they had shared since her arrival.

  Jerome leaned backed in the chair. “What do you have planned for the rest of the evening?”

  She set the cup down gently on its saucer and for a couple of seconds stared into the aromatic brew as if it could foretell her future. When she finally looked up it was directly into his eyes. “Angela sent a video of my daughter, Casey, and it came this afternoon. I watched it as soon as I got it, but I plan to watch it again this evening.” She felt the tears gather behind her eyelids and brushed them away with her fingertips. She missed her daughter desperately.

  Jerome reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I’m truly sorry you have to be separated from her.”

  Tears clogged her throat. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded to acknowledge his compassion for her.

  Jerome slid his hand from hers. “Do you have any pictures of her?”

  She laughed. “I’m a mother, so I never leave home without at least a few in my wallet.”

  He smiled. “I’d like to see them one day.”

  “Would you like to watch the video with me?” She caught herself immediately. “I’m sorry. That came completely out of the blue. I’m sure you have no interest in watching a home video, and you probably have work to do.”

  “The work I have will take less than an hour and I have all night. I would like very much to see your video. We could use the television in my office. It has the largest screen in the house.”

  His offer touched her deeply. “That’s very nice of you. I’d love to watch it in your office.”

  Jerome pushed back from the table and walked to the doorway. “Bring your tea with you. I’ll make myself another of my not-so-favorite drink while you get the video.”

  She rose from the table and followed him into the hall. She headed for her bedroom while Jerome took off in the opposite direction.

  “I’ll be in my office waiting for you. It’s across the hall from the living room,” he called over his shoulder.

  Dottie tried to shrug off the surge of pleasure she felt at Jerome’s willingness to watch the video, but she failed. The feeling not only stayed with her, it begged an important question. Was her excitement less about sharing the video and more about spending additional time with Jerome? Was she, against all reason, becoming attracted to him?

  JEROME SETTLED back on the sofa to watch the video Thea told him had been shot in her friend Angela’s backyard. A tripod had evidently been set up because Angela, as well as Thea’s daughter, was in most of the videos. Thea’s friend was attractive enough, but definitely not his type. Too athletic. He preferred them soft and dainty. More like the woman sitting three feet from him.

  A few minutes into the video, his interest waned. The child was a blond, blue eyed miniature of her mother, but that’s where his interest stopped. Children were not a normal part of his world. Beautiful women were.

  No matter how hard he tried to focus on the video, his attention drifted every few seconds from the figures on the television screen to the woman sharing the sofa with him.

  Stupid, stupid mistake choosing the opposite end of the sofa from Thea. He should have opted for his easy chair. With the only light in the room coming in erratic flashes from the television screen, the setting felt much too intimate. He shifted uncomfortably on the leather cushion.

  Since reaching maturity, he was extremely sensitive to the beginning of the slightest hint of sexual stimulation. Within the past few minutes, the effect of Thea’s nearness had quickly built to a noticeable state of arousal. The Need, the insatiable desire for blood, held him in its grip.

  He suffered through the last few frames of the video, fighting to keep his incisors in place when the overwhelming desire to sink them into Thea’s lovely neck took hold.

  And her neck was lovely—long and graceful, and so inviting.

  Thankfully, the video ended. Wasting no time, he sprang from the sofa, rushed across the room and hit the eject button on the television.

  Thea had risen with him. He spoke without looking at her. “Your daughter is a beautiful child and I’ve enjoyed watching the video with you, but I have to get to work now.” He held the CD out to her, letting his gaze lock with hers for a second. Her eyes held questions, and he quickly looked away.

  Was he being rude? Damn right he was. But rudeness was a far sight better than what might happen to her if he lost control. He needed to get out of here. He took a step toward the door. The room tilted. He cursed under his breath.

  By the all the Goddesses in Time, not only was he battling The Need, but it appeared the magnetic field was acting up again. Well, why not? Why not every hellish obstacle imaginable at this most inopportune time?

  He bit back the urge to curse out loud and forced himself to concentrate on a solution to his present dilemma. First, he needed this woman out of the room. Then he needed himself out of the house as quickly as possible.

  He needed blood. He needed a woman. He needed a woman’s blood.

  “Go,” he shouted. “Go. I need to be alone.”

  Why didn’t she move faster? Run, he wanted to shout. Run before I make us both regret this night.

  Run.

  He heard the sharp intake of her breath.

  Go.

  She stood rooted to the spot.

  Have you no sense of danger, woman?

  Her eyes suddenly rounded like dark blue marbles. Finally she understood.

  Yes. Yes.

  It took every bit of control he had to restrain himself until she finally left the room.

  Enough time had been wasted. He had to get out now. He yanked open the door Thea had just slammed shut behind her. When he reached the hall, he was pulled in two directions. He needed to leave this house. But he wanted to see Thea again before he left.

  What was wrong with him? One minute he couldn’t wait to get as far away from the woman as possible and the next minute he wanted to see her. Was he going mad?<
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  He hurried down the hall. Outside Thea’s door he fought one of the hardest battles of his life. He wanted to assure himself she was all right, that he hadn’t frightened her too badly, but did he dare open the door?

  He grasped the doorknob, almost turned it before he caught himself. Just the thought of stepping inside Thea’s bedroom had all the sexual energy in his body pooling in his loins. He jerked his hand back from the knob as if it were a flame. Turning quickly he rushed down the hall, reeling and bouncing off the walls, his equilibrium off-balance more than usual.

  He found Ella in her apartment watching television with Dennis. He had to leave for awhile, he told her. He explained he had reason to be concerned his houseguest might have a narcolepsy attack that night, and asked Ella to keep an eye on her until he returned. With Ella temporarily shouldering his responsibility for Thea, Jerome fled quickly into the night.

  The first woman he sought wasn’t at home. The second welcomed him with open arms. He sated his lust and slaked his blood-thirst with her, but still The Need raged. He wanted something more.

  He wanted Thea. But he couldn’t have her. Her safety was his priority.

  Chapter Nine

  WHEN JEROME returned home, the message light was flashing on the telephone in his office. Ordinarily he would have gone straight to his quarters after spending the night with a woman, but The Need had not been satisfied and he was restless. He needed something tangible to occupy his mind. He pressed the Play button on the answering machine. It was Michael calling from New Orleans.

  Julian’s temperature had begun to rise. Michael expected that within the next few days—a week at most—the optimum time for Jerome’s transformation would arrive. At that time, he would need to be in New Orleans.

  Jerome stared at the instrument as if it were alive and about to attack him. Michael’s voice went on. “Call me when you get in so we can make firm plans.” The message ended. Jerome stood transfixed. His head spun. The room shifted and his body wavered as if on the edge of a precipice.

  He had pushed the impending trip to New Orleans to the back of his mind so successfully that he was stunned by the reality he now faced. His time had come. Soon, his life would be forever changed.

  Distractedly, he picked up one of the papers on his desk, stared at it for a few seconds, then let it fall back amid the others awaiting his attention. He hesitated only a second before heading for the door and hastily leaving the room. There would be no telephone call to Michael, nor any work accomplished, tonight.

  DOTTIE HELD HER breath. Someone was outside her door. Was it Ella returning for another check? She looked at the bedside clock. Ella had left less than ten minutes before. It wasn’t likely she’d return so soon.

  I just want to be certain she’s asleep and well.

  Jerome. It was Jerome outside her door.

  Jerome?

  Damn, I’ve awakened her.

  No, you didn’t wake me. I wasn’t asleep. And I’m fine.

  Good. I wanted to be sure. I’ll say good-night, then.

  Wait. Don’t go.

  Dottie found her robe at the foot of the bed, threw it over her shoulders and hurried across the room. Something must be wrong for Jerome to be checking on her in the middle of the night. Her heartbeat picked up.

  Had he found out that she feared she’d been followed today?

  She opened the door to be met by Jerome’s blue and gray eyes blazing like coals in a roaring fire.

  “Someone followed you? Why wasn’t I told?”

  Oh, my God, he hadn’t known.

  She took a step back. Jerome entered the room, his eyes still on fire, his lips thinned to an angry scowl. She hugged herself to contain the fear that gripped her. She took another step back. Jerome advanced with her. They were in the middle of the room now, Jerome hovering over her. She instinctively closed the link between them. “What’s wrong?” she managed to ask past the tightening in her throat.

  “What’s wrong? First you leave the house alone against my orders. Then you neglect to tell me you were followed, and you ask me what’s wrong? Have you no good sense at all, woman?”

  A tightness built in her throat and spread to her chest. She fought to breathe. Jerome’s lips had thinned and his eyes blazed. She had never witnessed such anger in anyone before. She took another step back. Jerome advanced again. She was totally unprepared for what happened next.

  Jerome grasped her shoulders and hauled her body up against his and, oh my God . . . his mouth came down and covered hers. The kiss was as hot as the fire still raging in his eyes. She melted. Her arms wound around his neck, and his arms curved around her back and pressed her so close to his body she felt the erratic beat of his heart. Or was it her own heart that thumped against her chest? Did vampires even have hearts? But of course they did. Hadn’t she seen Jerome bleed?

  His mouth claimed hers more fiercely as the seconds passed. Somehow she managed to command her mind to keep the link between them closed. Abruptly, Jerome’s hold on her ended and he thrust her from him.

  “Don’t move,” he said, as he headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  She did as he directed. What else could she do?

  Jerome was back in less time than it took for her to wonder where he had gone or why. He crossed the room quickly, lifted her arm and slipped something cold on her wrist. She looked down at her arm. Jewels sparkled in the darkness. She looked up at Jerome. His eyes were cooler, but she still felt their heat. She lifted her arm. “What is this?”

  “Something to keep you safe.”

  ”But why—-?”

  He cut her off. “It’s a bracelet made of the same jewels as my ring. Their magical properties will protect you.”

  Jerome’s ring glowed as his grasp on her wrist tightened. She had more questions, but before she could voice them, he said, “You will wear this bracelet as long as you are under my care.” His tone grew more resolute. “Is that clear? You are never to remove it. Never. Do you understand?”

  Dottie didn’t answer. Deftly, she worked her arm free of his grip. Was he trying to protect her against himself or someone else?

  “Before I agree, I need to know—”

  Jerome’s tone softened. “Just do as I say. Please. It’s for your own good.” There was a slight pause before he heaved an almost inaudible sigh and continued, “I have to leave now. But remember, do not remove the bracelet.” He walked to the door. “Tomorrow I will explain everything.”

  He was gone before she could object or ask another question. She stood unmoving for a long time, then slowly made her way back to the bed, her right hand clasped around the bracelet on her left wrist. Dazed and confused, she sat on the bed and slowly sank back on the pillow.

  She closed her eyes and in a matter of seconds she was asleep. Instantly, she dreamed. Someone said her name tenderly. Intimately. It was Jerome. And he called her Thea.

  JEROME SLAMMED the steel door closed behind him. If he had stayed one second longer in the room upstairs he might have taken Thea ruthlessly.

  Never before had he returned from a night of lust to find himself craving sex again so soon. It had to be the damned magnetic activity.

  Ah, but he knew better. Damn it all, he knew better. The magnetic shift was no doubt affecting him—but not nearly as much as Thea was.

  Thea. Just saying her name mentally stirred his primal needs. Damn Julian for interfering in his life. Damn the Goddess Lillith for sending Julian his salvation. Damn his own soul for the confusion that made him question the destiny laid out before him.

  Why couldn’t Julian, Michael, Lillith and all his ancestors be content with the wars he waged and the victories he won from dusk until dawn? What was so damned all-fire great about being able to rout out the evil ones where they slept? They all had to rise eventually, just
as he did, and he and his cadre were excellent warriors in the dark of night.

  His thoughts suddenly did a three-sixty. It would be great to have no restrictions, no fetters like Michael and Gordon and, yes, Julian.

  The cell phone at his waist vibrated. He flipped it open. It was Gordon. What the hell did he want in the middle of the night? “What the hell is so important for you to call in the middle of the night?”

  “Michael tried to reach you on your cell, but couldn’t.”

  “So?”

  “He wanted to speak with you. I didn’t know where you were or when you would return.”

  “You know damn well wherever I was I’d be back before morning. And since when do I have to check in with you if I decide to go out at night?”

  “Now, Jerome—”

  “Don’t ‘now Jerome,’ me. I went out. I’m back. And Michael left a message which is all he had to do in the first place.”

  “I’m sorry if I—”

  “Good-night, Gordon. Go get some sleep. Morning will be here soon.” He didn’t wait for Gordon to reply. He flipped the phone shut and slipped it into the case at his waist.

  He had never known Gordon to keep tabs on him before. It was this damned transformation ritual that had everyone off kilter. That had to be it. Michael had enlisted Gordon’s help to keep an eye on him. Well, why not? The two of them were brothers of a sort. Not like him, Julian and Jonah, but tied by blood nevertheless. Gordon was Michael’s younger cousin, summoned by Michael decades ago to look after Jerome because Michael’s first allegiance was to Julian.

  He slipped back to an early childhood memory when Michael was always around. The memory quickly skipped to the time when Michael assumed the form of a female and took over the role of the triplets’ mother when she died an early death. And even now the pain of Michael’s gradual separation from him and Jonah, when the brothers’ transformation began, was brutally sharp.

  He couldn’t keep the smirk from curling his lips. Michael must have been furious when he tried his cell and found out the number was no longer in service. After three weeks of receiving annoying wrong numbers he’d had his number changed. His failure to give the new number to Julian and Michael had not been intentional. His smirk turned into a laugh. Or had it been? Had it been a subconscious revolt at the thought that his every move might be monitored by them?