Wait (Beloved Bloody Time)
Page 5
Christian hid the irritation he felt. “You thought I would enjoy profiting from war?”
Her lips shaped themselves into a silent “oh!” Then she gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry. It’s not that I forgot. It’s just…that was back then. It was a different life.”
“I haven’t forgotten any of it,” he said evenly. “I don’t want to forget.”
She stared at him, with a touch of curiosity and surprise.
He shifted in his chair awkwardly. “Anyway. Why I did it isn’t germane. I can’t write your…friend an exemption.”
“Because he’s my friend,” she said flatly.
“Because I’ve written too many already.” He rested his hand on the table. “There have been signs. The FBI is sniffing around, checking out my business, my personal life. They’re closing in. You and I both know we cannot withstand extremely close scrutiny. As each decade passes, it gets harder to keep up with all the documentation and cross-checking they do.”
Her lips pressed together thoughtfully. “What would they do to you, if they caught you?”
“Jail, probably, and that’s the last place I can afford to be.”
“Then trades lives.” She shrugged. “The FBI wouldn’t be openly investigating you if they didn’t already know enough to grab you on something. It’s time to transition to the next life before they do.”
He drew in a breath. “But…my patients…”
“No. Christian, listen to me.” She leaned forward again. “You are not human. You cannot afford the luxury of human considerations and human behavior. I’m glad you’ve had these decades to help people. I am. But now you have to remember your maker’s first lessons. You cannot endanger the Blood. By lingering too long in this life, when you know the possibilities are intolerable, you’re risking exposing us all.”
He bit down on the need to protest, stifling it. She was right. He had forgotten this basic tenet. That was because for a very long time now, he had moved through his days and nights thinking of himself as human. Only when he fed was he forcibly reminded of his real identity, and these days, he could hunt, feed and remove traces of himself with an efficiency that ensured it barely registered consciously.
Then the idea slammed into his brain with a force that made him gasp. He pushed his chair back from the table and turned it to face Tally. He reached out and turned her chair, bringing her face to face with him. Their knees were almost touching. “Come with me,” he said. “I need someone like you in my life, to remind me of what I am. To keep me centered.”
“You need a nanny?” she asked.
“I need you. Come and be my wife. Or my sister…no, that won’t do.” He pushed his hand through his hair again. “You can be anything you want, as long as it doesn’t have us arrested for incest. But come, just for the fun of it.”
She was breathing faster, her lips slightly parted, as she considered it. She really was considering it, he realized with a start of excitement. “Where would you like to go?” he asked. “You’ve been here for a while. We could go anywhere you like. South America. Asia. Australia is supposed to be a great place.”
She grimaced. “Not unless you drag me there in irons.”
“What about Columbia? Or Peru? It’s supposed to be beautiful there. Or Brazil.”
“Brazil…” she said thoughtfully, the tiny line between her brows appearing. “What would we do?”
“The world needs doctors. I can…” He smiled. “I’ll forge my papers and start another practice, wherever we feel like stopping. Somewhere on a beach sounds pretty good.”
“It does.” She was smiling, her full lips looking luscious in the low light of the bar.
He considered her. “What about Gabe?” he asked flatly.
Tally sat very still for a long moment, her gaze unfocused. Christian could actually feel the seconds ticking off. The tension in his gut spiraled.
Then she sighed. “He won’t miss me. Not really. He’ll sell another painting, and paint a dozen more, and he’ll be fine. It’s not like he ever really loved me.”
“Are you sure?” Christian asked. “Because it seems to me that’s a neat way to justify everything. Don’t do this if you’re going to hurt him.”
She smiled. “Do you know why we’re together?”
He shook his head.
“He asked me if I wanted to see his paintings.” Her smile broadened.
Christian found he was smiling too. “He actually did want you to see his paintings?”
“He really did. It took another five days to get him into bed and even then he seemed surprised by it.” She gave a small laugh. “He won’t miss me for long. As long as he can paint.” Her smile faded and she just looked at him.
“That’s to be the price, is it?” he asked. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the folded form and put it on the table. He uncapped his pen.
She stared at the folded sheet. “You brought one with you? I thought you said…?”
Christian shrugged. “It was you. Did you really think I would refuse you? Besides, it’s not an issue now. You and I are moving on.” He unfolded the sheet. “So, I’ll fill this in, then you and I will plan our escape.”
He glanced at her. She was smiling and when he looked at her, she nodded. “Very well,” she said, copying his accent and tone.
So he bent back over the form, a rare lightness of spirit making him smile. Then he realized: He was happy.
* * * * *
When Christian finally knocked on the door, four hours after he said he would be there, Tally blew out her breath in relief and hurried to drop the chain and let him in. On the way, she peered in the mirror mounted on the door of the wardrobe next to the door. The hair cut was radical – now her hair barely brushed her shoulders. It curled in at the edges and the hairdresser had teased and brushed the hair on the top of her head so that it settled into high dome. It was very modern.
So were her clothes, which she had spent an hour picking out, looking for something that a doctor’s wife would wear. The polyester pants suit was stylish and had cost a fortune. She had forgotten what it was like to buy fashionable clothes and was looking forward to doing more of it.
Satisfied, she opened the door, her welcoming smile completely unforced. “You’re late....”
It was Christian, but he wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t smiling.
The two men behind him wore suits. Badly fitting and old fashioned suits. One had a pork pie hat that looked like he had sat on it more than once. They also wore hard expressions that didn’t move at all when she opened the door. Tally absorbed their presence, her heart sinking. Police detectives, she guessed. Or FBI. Or perhaps even CIA.
She looked at Christian expectantly, already knowing what he was going to say.
He looked over his shoulder at the men. “Can I go inside?”
“No,” one said instantly.
The other stirred. “Five minutes. The door doesn’t shut or we kick it in and you’ll be sorry it did shut.”
“Frank...” the first said warningly.
“We’re on the thirty-first floor, for chrissake,” Frank snapped. “Grow a heart. Give him five minutes to say goodbye to his girl. It could be the last time.”
Frank shot a glance at Tally where she stood waiting, holding the door open. His expression was one of startled guilt. “Five minutes,” he said gruffly.
“Thank you,” Christian told them. He stepped through and Tally pushed the wastepaper basket up against the door frame so the door wouldn’t swing completely closed. She picked up Christian’s hand and drew him further into the hotel room.
He kissed her. Hard. Deep.
When he let her go his eyes were shut, and his forehead etched in lines that made it seem like he was in pain.
“They’re the FBI,” she coaxed.
He nodded, looking at her. “They were waiting for me when I got back to the clinic.”
“What’s going to happen to you?” she asked, trying to i
gnore her thundering heart and the high pitched note playing in her mind. It was hard to think. Always, she’d had options and alternatives, when things got tight. But now, there was nothing. They could not overpower the agents. They would become hunted criminals, and that put them and their images on the wrong sort of files. As much as possible, they had to move within human laws to avoid drawing attention to themselves. That left no alternatives at all. “Are they taking you to jail? Did they arrest you?”
“I can’t afford to be arrested and processed,” Christian said. “So we came to an agreement. They’re driving me to Fort Dix. Now. Tonight. If I volunteer for service, they won’t pursue this any further.”
“Oh, Christian....” She stared at him, appalled. “Will the Army use your medical training?”
“I don’t know,” he said heavily. “I’m completely out of guesses about how it goes from here.”
She pressed her hands against his chest, over the top of the black shirt, and looked up at him. “This isn’t something I anticipated, either,” she murmured.
Christian closed his eyes again. Then: “You need to contact Gabe. You have to warn him that if he uses the exemption, he’ll be arrested.”
“I will,” she assured him.
“He’ll have to run for Canada. Stay there indefinitely. You’ll need to find a new life, too. Christ, this is such a mess.”
“Shh...” She curled her hand around his neck. “Kiss me.”
It was a bitter-sweet kiss. Afterwards, he held her and she closed her eyes, trying to extract as much from the moment as possible. Christian’s heart was thudding heavily in his chest.
“You have to find a way out,” she whispered. “You have to find a bolt hole somewhere and disappear. Run until it’s safe and you can start a new life.”
He drew in a deep, slow breath. “I don’t want to lose contact with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I will. If I dive down that bolt hole, they’ll come looking for you, Tally. You have to move on, now, too. You have to help Gabe disappear, too – his life has effectively ended and it’s my fault.”
She looked up at him. “These things happen,” she told him. “The blood are as affected by world events as any human, especially while we pass as human.”
“Damn it, I don’t want to lose you.” He caught her face in his hands. “Meet me. Meet me somewhere when this is all over. In ten years’ time – they will have given up the chase by then.”
She shook her head. “Too soon,” she whispered, thinking. “Make it the turn of the century. The last day of 1999.”
“Midnight, as the century turns.”
“Yes, midnight, on New Year’s Eve. Where?”
“The New York Library,” he said, with a small smile. “Just in case the Waldorf Astoria disappears again.”
“It will be closed at midnight,” she pointed out.
“Wait by the lions. I’ll meet you there.”
She took in a deep breath. “I will.”
His thumb stroked gently along her bottom lip, as he studied her. His green eyes kept her gaze locked on him. “Have a nice life,” he whispered and let her go.
“I’ll be there,” she said as he walked to the door.
“So will I.”
One of the agents kicked the trashcan out of the way, and the door closed behind them, leaving Tally alone.
Again.
Chapter Four
12:13 a.m., New York Library, New York, January 1, 2000 – 32 Years Later
The snow was blowing southward, in an icy spray that was uncomfortable, so Christian stayed close to the side of the lion they called Fortitude, who protected him a little. Patience, the other lion, could barely be seen through the thick snow. It was a record dump, they were saying.
It felt like it.
He looked at his watch once more, but it showed that exactly as much time had passed midnight as he had measured it for himself.
Thirteen minutes. It was only thirteen minutes, he told himself. She could have had trouble getting a cab in this weather. Maybe she was flying in and her plane was delayed. He had no idea where she was coming from. She could even live here in New York once more, in which case, where was she?
He mentally marked the passing of another seven minutes, which made her late by any standard of protocol.
There were very few people out on the street, but every time a human shape appeared through the driving snow, shuffling along with their head down, he found himself holding his breath, only to let it go once they passed him.
Had something happened to her?
His heart squeezed. So did his gut. What if something had happened to her that even she, with all her resources and skills, could not wriggle or fight her way out of?
Then he dismissed the idea as overly paranoid. Actually, it was stupid. But once he’d had the thought, he couldn’t get rid of it. It kept creeping back into his thoughts, each time a new form of disaster. There were very few ways a vampire could die, even accidentally, but those that were possible were gruesome and involved painful, slow endings. Except for having her heart ripped out. That would be painful, but it would be faster than, say, freezing in the Arctic. The temperatures there would kill a vampire and freeze her – she wouldn’t even have a chance to disintegrate.
There was another solo pedestrian pushing head-first into the almost horizontally driven snow. They had passed Patience, the other lion, before he noticed them. He peered through the white flakes dancing and swirling in the air. It looked like a woman. They wore a thick coat with a fur-trimmed hood pulled down low, and a scarf over their mouth and nose. He couldn’t see their eyes, because they had their head down, to protect them from the spitting flakes.
He watched her – it had to be a woman – come closer. She was ten yards away when she lifted her head to spot him standing on the fourth step.
His heart responded by slamming itself against his chest. Christian gripped his hands together tightly.
She climbed the steps to stand on the one below him and look up at him. “You picked a hell of a night for this, Christian.” Her voice was muffled behind the scarf, but her wonderful brown eyes were skewering him with that frank stare he had never forgotten, not since Seville.
He picked up her gloved hand. “Come with me. I know where it is warmer.”
* * * * *
Tally had known what she was letting herself in for if she chose to meet Christian like they had arranged. When she had started out from the hotel, she had been resigned to this inevitability. But now that he was holding her hand and standing next to her while the elevator rose through the floors, it did not seem like such a bad thing at all. She was tingling, and her heart was trying to break free and beat on its own. She was abruptly aware of her breasts beneath the silk tee-shirt, and her pussy and how her jeans were brushing against it with each step. She could feel how damp and ready she was.
The elevator chimed, announcing their floor, and the doors glided smoothly open. Her heart slipped loose and began to thud. She could hear Christian’s heart doing the same thing and it drove her anticipation even higher.
They stepped out of the elevator, moving around the people still on it. He drew her along as he walked down the thickly carpeted corridor, pulling out his room key as he walked. His pace was neither fast nor slow, but Tally felt like the corridor stretched on forever.
Until, finally, he halted at 716.
She drew in her breath, aware of it pulling down into her lungs. She was trembling.
But instead of unlocking the door, he pressed her against it. His hands slipped inside her coat, passed the long cardigan she wore beneath, to settle on her waist over the silk. His thumbs moved restlessly against her hips, above the band of her jeans, as he studied her, his gaze flicking over her hair and face. She could feel the keycard held between his fingers, pressing into her waist.
“You’re here,” he breathed and kissed her.
Oh, how she had ached for thi
s kiss! Too many times over the last thirty years, she had found herself recalling their last kisses and thinking ahead to this moment, wondering what it would be like.
It was beyond her expectations. Decades of anticipation had not come close to the reality of the moment. She had forgotten just how good his lips felt against hers. The sweep of his tongue into her mouth.
His hands on her. The big swordsman’s hands….
Then she forgot to think. She let herself be pulled away from petty concerns by the spiraling pleasure of kissing him.
When the door gave way behind her, she gasped into his mouth.
“I have you,” he murmured, his hand around her back. He walked her backwards into the room, still kissing her, and she heard the door shut behind them. But Christian was already removing her coat and scarf, then the cardigan. His hands swept up to her shoulders and on the way they caressed her breasts through the silk shirt. She was bare beneath, and his fingers hesitated, giving tiny strokes along the sides of her breasts and he groaned and tore his mouth from hers.
He stepped away from her, his gaze holding hers, and stripped quickly, with economical movements. For a tall man, he was surprisingly graceful. It was, in part, what made him so good with a sword.
His shoulders were wide, and nicely muscled, but not heavily so. His chest gleamed in the low light coming from the lamps beside the big bed, the pecs flexing as he took off his jeans and the rest of his clothing. He straightened and looked at her. There was a hot look in his eyes that made her shiver.
Tally reached for the button on her jeans, but he caught her hand. “I’ll do that.”
He drew her to the bed, then surprised her by sitting on the end of it. His cock was already erect and jutted from between his spread thighs, pulsing and red with blood. To use that much of his supply of blood, he had to be powerfully aroused.
He put her between his knees and held her steady, his hands on her hips. Then he opened her jeans, pulled the zipper down and spread the fronts open. He leaned forward and kissed her belly, just below her navel, and her hips thrust helplessly.
Tally reached for his shoulders, to steady herself.