by Jackie Ivie
“Oh...yeah. Pretty much. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I mean, you are the one who placed me at Old Aberdeen Ferryden turntable that night. Made sure I was there. Right then. So I could see...her. With him. Why shouldn’t I question your judgment? It looks pretty faulty from my end.”
Cherish almost dropped the phone at Nigel’s answer. Shock was still a debilitating thing. Damn this reanimation.
“Ah. I see you’ve reached the blame portion of your guilt process. Deal making should be right behind it.”
“Deal making? I’ll give you a deal. It’s like you orchestrated this! I mean, gee whiz, Sir. Why did you have to make sure I knew? Why didn’t you send me over there sooner? Before they met? I’d give anything to go back in time and meet her first.”
“I was mistaken. It appears deal-making and blame will be concurrent events in your case. You wish to explain now?”
“Explain what?”
“You didn’t give Lizbeth access to the Abyss Link when I required it. There is a consequence for that. One I will not hesitate to place in action should it be warranted. I would suggest you enlighten me as to your reasons. Now.”
Cherish sucked in a breath. It was an automatic defensive reaction against imminent punishment, even if it was directed at another. That was another unwanted sensation from her past.
“Lizbeth is only half-turned, Sir. There is still the chance she will go back...to humanity. And who knows? If that happens, the Hunter Clan might reach her. They’re not entirely stupid. They’d love to get their hands on knowledge of the Abyss Link.”
Long moments passed while Cherish’s heart rate stabilized. It was still rapid. Hard. Fearful. Other sounds intruded. The fog-warped noise of a city that never slept. The hushed tones of traffic. A siren in the distance. Her own breathing.
And then Akron spoke, releasing the tension that had knotted her belly. Oh. How well she recollected that sensation, too. Reanimation was a disaster, as far as Cherish was concerned. There had to be a way to stop it.
“Very well. I accept your reasoning, Nigel. But it appears you’re fated to be at the desk. Until Invaris returns. Or Lizbeth accepts immortality.”
“I hope you remember at some point that you’re the one that grounded me from it tonight, Sir.”
Akron gave another sigh. It didn’t sound as angered as before. “Well, until you learn that accessing a certain lady’s social network page is not going to be beneficial to you, I had to step in.”
“But she’s so—”
“Nigel. We need to return to the subject at hand. And it isn’t you.”
“Oh. Right. I’m accessing the Abyss Link. What am I looking for?”
“St. Louis., Missouri. We’ve got Cherish on the line.”
“Cherish? Oh. Yeah. The orphan with a huge chip on her shoulder. Hates everybody. But I can completely relate to that at the moment.”
“Nigel. Hate is one of those tricky emotions. It’s malleable. Changeable. It’s often shielding something. Makes a great barrier. And, as you know, barriers are built to protect precious things. Like soft hearts.”
“I certainly hope you aren’t referring to me,” Cherish inserted.
“Of course not, Cherish. Forgive me. We are out of time. We will call you back.”
The connection ended. Cherish put the now-useless phone in her pants pocket for discarding later, and fished out another one. The night was getting colder. The metal bit into her fingers, making her trembling more severe. She detested everything about this mating thing.
The connection didn’t even ring before Akron was speaking. “Cherish? You there?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ve checked every incident report in St. Louis. Nothing too out-of-the ordinary happening. I’m going to assume the hits were accomplished, and knowing you, they were quick, clean, and efficient. No need for a 4-D team. True?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Since I am unable to figure out why you called us, you will need to explain. Please. You have my full attention.”
“I need to know if there is a way to stop the...um. The...uh.” Why was this so hard?
“Yes?”
“I need to know about the...mating thing. Is there some potion to stop it? Anything?”
“Oh, man! Good question! I should have thought of that before my afterlife got completely effed-up. Where are my brains?” Nigel asked.
“Nigel.”
“Now what? Oh. Sorry for the interruption, Sir. But I just passed your interrogation and still have my head. I’m feeling...a bit overconfident. I’ll work on it. Okay?”
“Fair enough. Cherish? I take it you’ve found your mate? You have the physical manifestations?”
“Yes.”
“And...you don’t want this?”
“I didn’t expect it. I don’t want it. Please tell me there’s a way to stop it.”
“Oh. You tell him, Sister.”
“Nigel.”
“Oops. I know. Keep to the job at hand. This is not about me. Sorry, Sir. And you, too, Cherish. I apologize. Should I just go back to my room?”
“Not yet. I think you need to hear what I am about to say, too. You still there, Cherish?”
“Yes?”
“You both must have missed something when I first gave you immortality. Or, I am a very poor communicator.”
“You have to be joking, Sir,” Nigel answered.
“No. I am not joking. I am clarifying. Listen closely. Vampirism is immortality, true. It is not an afterlife. It is eternal un-death. An existence without emotion. Or sensation.”
“We got this part already, Sir. At least I did. How about you, Cherish?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Then I’ll continue. There is only one thing that can alter this un-death.”
Nigel answered. “Mating. Right. Got that, too. We all have a mate. And if we find them every sensation lost in death will be returned. End of story.”
“Mating doesn’t happen to every vampire. There are associates who have existed for millennia without finding theirs. You have to be extremely lucky to happen across your mate in the vast reaches of time and space.”
“Or unlucky,” Nigel inserted.
“Here is the part you two must have missed. Mating isn’t optional. There is no magic potion for it. There is nothing that will stop it. There are only two choices available to you if your mate happens across your path. Acceptance. Or denial. Mating can be the greatest gift...or so I’ve been told. It can also be the gravest pain. Very few have denied it. Because the consequences are...Nigel? Would you care to offer some insight?”
“Oh. Let me list some of them. Misery. Depression. Anger. Pain. Tears. Geez. I better stop before I need tissues.”
“Exactly. So. There you have it. Both of you. There is no potion or spell against mating. You can consider it a gift. Or a curse. Whatever it becomes, is up to you. It’s your choice. If you don’t mind, I believe I’ll ring off now...before I suffer a bout of melancholy, myself. Good-bye. Both of you.”
There was a click but she could still hear breathing. That was odd. And then Nigel spoke up in a broken whisper.
“Cherish?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t choose denial. Trust me. Oh. Shit.”
She heard Nigel’s heart-wrenching sob just before he hung up.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Just tell me you got her name. That’s all I want to know.”
“No.”
“No – as in you didn’t get it, or no – you’re not going to tell me.”
“John—”
“Come on, Sam. You’re the most eligible bachelor in Missouri. The least you can do is help a fellow bachelor out.”
“I am not the most eligible anything. In any state. Or city. I’m a bird-nerd. Remember?”
“Nice try. I read the article.”
“You always believe everything you read?”
“I have eyes. Women come out of the woodwork when you
show up. I mean look at what happened tonight.”
“I sure wish you’d turn back into an intern and help me here. Otherwise we’re never getting to go home tonight. Oh. Crap. I hate suits.”
The sound of ripping cloth was loud. That’s what came of hefting bird cages through the halls and into a van while dressed in a form-fitting tuxedo. Because the intern who’d been hired to do it was too busy dissecting things, making up scenarios, and mulling Sam’s love life.
“It’s the hair, isn’t it?”
“Come on, John. Give it a rest. Grab the drop-cloth, will you? You still have the keys to the sanctuary? The code for the gate?”
“Well, you have something that attracts the females like buzzards to a kill. I’m going with the hair. How many years did it take to grow out?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll get the drop-cloth or we’re never getting out of here.”
“Come on. At least tell me you got her number. Will you do that?”
“No,” Sam replied.
“You didn’t get her number, either?”
“What do you mean, either?”
“Ah-ha! So you did get her name and number. I knew it!”
“Where did you come up with that?”
John didn’t answer, but at least the intern was heading back toward the room they’d been given to prep. It was cleaned out now. Except for the floor covering they’d brought. Finally. Sam pulled off his jacket, checked it for damage. Couldn’t see any. He put it back on. It was too chilly outside without it. He should have brought a change of clothing. His work gear. Khakis and a shirt. A corduroy jacket. Something normal. And he should have escaped earlier. Found some excuse to avoid an additional ninety minutes of time spent milling about, meeting people.
He knew the exact amount of time because each minute had ticked by with the strangest sense of slowness. Gestures were lengthy and ponderous affairs, while everyone had spoken like they were on a different speed setting than he was. He was on alert. Primed. Tense. Nightshade had been the same. The bird had fussed and fidgeted until Sam had excused himself for a bit to get the bird to the intern, John.
He needed to remember all of this for next time. He made a mental note. Bring a change of clothing. Use the bird for an excuse to flee. Sam had already been informed there would definitely be a next time. The director was very pleased with the amount of donations they’d raised tonight. Sam hadn’t replied. He was locked in. He knew it. The director did, too. If Sam hadn’t wanted to make publicity appearances for the sanctuary, he shouldn’t have agreed to it on his employment paperwork.
“So. Are you meeting up with her later?”
Sam groaned. The intern was back.
“You are, aren’t you? I mean if I’d had a chick like that just step into my world, I’d be meeting up with her. At my first opportunity. Any warm-blooded male would.”
“It’s really late, John. They’re waiting up for Nightshade at the sanctuary.”
“And you have plans?”
“Yeah. I do. A drive home. A hot shower.”
“And a hotter chick?”
“I’m leaving now. You finish up.”
Sam pulled the door open with a little too much strength. He had to physically prevent it from slamming into the metal wall-guard. He rarely got frustrated and never exhibited it. But he refused to discuss the woman. He couldn’t. It wasn’t due to the missed connection with her. It was because he was still enwrapped in a sense of awe. Something extraordinary had happened. Something massive. And intriguing.
And very rare.
He’d just had a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ experience. He didn’t question it. Somehow, he knew. Every minute that passed felt like it carried her image. The last thing he wanted right now was an inquisitive intern picking through what had happened with a fine-toothed comb. He already sensed he was going to regret this evening. Bitterly.
But not yet.
His SUV beckoned with a beep and headlight flash when he clicked the key-chip. Good thing. The parking lot was large. Lit in sections with tall lights that hummed when he neared them. It was a good-sized walk to where he’d parked. The windshield wasn’t frosted enough for scraping. And he’d backed in. No surprise there. He always did.
The leather seats felt like they hugged his ass with cold fingers as he sat. It was these tuxedo pants. He wouldn’t be able to feel temperature through heavy cotton twill khakis. Sam buckled his seat belt. Checked all the mirrors. Stereo setting. Started the engine. Put the transmission in gear. Turned on his lights.
And his headlights illuminated the woman. Right in front of him.
Sam’s foot slid off the brake, the vehicle jerked forward. His heart stopped. He barely stifled a shriek.
Oh shit! Oh shit!
He hadn’t hit her, had he? Oh shit. If he’d hurt her...?
It took a second to slam the vehicle into park, unfasten and yank the seatbelt off. He did it simultaneously. The next second was spent grabbing the door release and bursting out onto the pavement. Maybe two seconds elapsed before he reached the front bumper.
And there wasn’t anything there.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam spun, and then bent to check beneath the vehicle. It was dark. Shadowed. He had to go onto his belly to check for anything silhouetted in what light was available. The space was still empty. Nothing there but asphalt. Dirt. Wheels. His vehicle undercarriage. He stood again, slowly dusting his palms on what had been pristine black superfine wool. He checked his bumper next. Nothing odd there. No mark. Or dent. Good grief. Was he seeing things now? Was that it?
“Doctor Reid?”
His name came from right behind him. This time he did let out a girly shriek. It was accompanied by a jump and twirl, but at least he didn’t fall. Oh. Gee. It was the woman. She had a voice that carried all kinds of undertones. Breathless-sounding. Ear-pleasing. It matched the view. He hadn’t imagined anything. She was standing about a foot from him, lighted perfectly by his headlamps. She was small, just as he’d guessed. Her head barely reached his chin. Hers was tipped upward so she could meet his eyes. His first impression had been dead-on. She was gorgeous. Perfect skin. Dark, thick, wavy hair. The shadow of lengthy lashes hit her cheeks as she blinked. She licked her lips. And then he caught the flash of what looked like a sword hilt. Peeking over her shoulder.
A sword?
Oh baby!
This ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ experience just went into hyper-fantastic. It was beyond impossible. He’d seen the Warrior-Goddess look. Consumed it in graphic books. Fantasized about it. He’d never once imagined he’d be around a real warrior-goddess. That might even mean that those tight jeans of hers weren’t just hugging thighs...they were wrapped around tight, muscled limbs. A glance confirmed it.
Oh. Wow.
His heart did some sort of stutter-blip that almost hurt. He already knew she affected him mentally. Apparently, the physical reaction to her was worse. Instantaneous. Massive. Undeniable. He cleared his throat and pulled on the bowtie to gain some room for a swallow. It didn’t work. And it probably looked stupid.
“Um. Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t hit you?”
“No.”
“You sure? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m not hurt.”
“Oh. Thank goodness. What a relief. You have no idea.”
He sighed. A wave of something resembling weakness washed over him. It dissipated within moments. He hadn’t realized relief had a tangible force that accompanied it. He did now.
“They called you...Samson,” she informed him.
Oh. Her voice was another force to be dealt with. She had perfect enunciation of each word, too. He smiled.
“Uh. Yeah.”
“I like it.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
Said with her voice, he liked it a lot, too. Actually, he decided he didn’t care what she called him as long as she kept talking.
“Do they call you that
because you grew your hair out?”
“Um. It was more the other way around. I grew it out because my name is Samson. You don’t get to choose your name in this world. Actually, you don’t get to choose much. Parentage. Birth order. Your name. My parents gave me an odd-ball name. So...I just went with it.”
She smiled slightly. His knees wavered. Geez. The physical reactions to her were increasing? Was that even possible?
“Oh.”
“I mean, it could be worse. My dad’s name was Howard. I could be a Howie.”
“Howie?” Her head tilted.
“Okay. Long story short - let’s just say, sometimes your name fits you. And sometimes it doesn’t. Like yours. Which is...?”
“I would say your name fits you perfectly. Doctor. Samson. Reid.”
She split his name into three distinct sections. His ears started buzzing slightly. This was really weird. And getting weirder. It was like they spoke, but they could be saying anything. Words and content didn’t matter. There was an undercurrent happening. It seemed to generate from her before reaching out and grabbing at him. The air felt more alive. Brighter. Electrified. He’d never felt anything like it. He had to physically restrain the urge to move closer to her.
“Look. Um. Are you...alone?”
It was stupid question time, but he hadn’t even managed to find out her name yet. His engine was running beside him, putting unnecessary pollution in the air, while the temperature wasn’t getting any warmer. He glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting others, and then looked back down at her.
“Yes.”
“You hungry?”
“No.”
“Thirsty?”
A slight smile touched her lips again. A tingle slid through his belly as he watched it. He worked at stifling it. This was ridiculous.
“I am replete.”
“Well...maybe I can give you a lift somewhere?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I’d say your home, but maybe you’re from out-of-town. Maybe you’re booked at the hotel?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well. Maybe you don’t want me to know your address. I mean we just met, and...that’s a no, too. Got it.”
