“Good to know, what else?”
“I can consume food if I have to. For example, to keep up my human charade, but my body can’t process it so I need to rid myself of it later. And this is not mealtime talk.”
“What about the sun?” I asked, switching to something that wouldn’t adversely affect my appetite.
“I am, unfortunately, confined to the night. Because of my age I can withstand the pre-dawn light—those few moments right before the sun comes up—and dusk—just after the sun dips beyond the horizon—but I can’t withstand direct sunlight for very long. To face the midday sun would be suicide.”
I listened as I ate, enjoying both the delicious meal and how open and honest he was being about his abilities and weaknesses.
“How often do you need to feed?” I asked, bringing the discussion back to an unappetizing topic.
“Ah, the age old question,” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “If it was a life or death situation, I could go a few months—say three or four—before my body began to shut down. Obviously I try to avoid such scenarios.”
Swirling the dark liquid, he inhaled its aroma before continuing. “As a woman, I’m sure you’ve spent a fair amount of time diet.”
I glared at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m not exactly what you’d call a slight woman, so yes, I diet regularly. Sometimes better than at other times.”
“And when you are on these diets, do you deny yourself the thing you want most? What your body craves?”
“Well, yes. That’s the point, isn’t it? If I ate everything I wanted there’d be consequences. I can’t just go around eating ice cream, French fries, and cheese all the time no matter how much I might want to. But what does that have to do with your ... err … eating habits?”
“It’s the same for me. I crave blood. It’s the thing I think about most.”
When he stared at me I understood perfectly what he was telling me without words. I didn’t think he did it to scare me thought. I knew he was making it clear that blood was first and foremost on his mind lest I’d forgotten he was a vampire and not a mortal man.
“But there’d be consequences if I went around drinking blood any time I wanted to. Admittedly, my consequences are vastly more pronounced than a few gained pounds, so I’ve learned to control my cravings.”
On another sip of his wine he asked, “Are you sure you really want to know this?”
I shook my head as I shoveled a spoonful of lamb into my mouth.
“Very well then,” he answered on a resigned sigh. “I try to feed at least once a week because it gives me pleasure to do so, but I can go longer if need be.”
My next question would drag us into territory I probably wouldn’t be comfortable with, but I had to know. “How do you feed?”
I stared into my nearly empty wine glass and waited for him to answer, too afraid to see his face. He’d drunk from me at the height of our lovemaking so I knew that was one such time. Still, it might kill me to hear him say that was how he normally fed because then I’d have to face knowing he would never truly be mine. I could accept he had been with other women. I could even accept he might have unfinished business to attend to with Elizabeth, but I could not abide sharing him with others.
“I can hear your heart racing and see the trepidation in your face even though you’re trying to hide it from me. I don’t have to read your mind to know what it is you’re really asking.” He spoke gently, squeezing my hand in reassurance. “While taking the blood of my lovers enhances the experience exponentially, it is not a practice I routinely engage in. The connection it creates, the intimacy that is involved with the act, is something I don’t take lightly.”
When I raised my eyes to meet his, the earnestness of his expression affirmed the truth of his words.
“The majority of my sustenance derives from a stash of blood that I obtain from a medical supplier who is aware of my situation and willing to assist me for the right sum.”
I sighed audibly, delighted to hear that of all the difficult topics we still needed to address, his potential blood whores weren’t one of them. I didn’t know what was worse. The idea that he’d do something like that with an anonymous “donor” or him keeping a regular bedmate for such a purpose.
When William pulled his hand from mine and sat back in his chair, I knew something was amiss. We’d known one another for such a short time, but already I was coming to recognize his patterns. I knew, for instance, that when he was weighing a topic of import, he’d often look out the window, stare into the fire, or sit back in his chair and look to the ceiling, which I’d also come to learn was a tell he was trying to come up with a way to change the topic.
“Out with it,” I demanded. “I can only withstand your mysterious pauses in conversation so much, so just say what you want to say without trying to figure out how not to scare me off. I’ll let you know when it’s too much, when I can’t bear to hear anymore.”
William relaxed, if only infinitesimally, and nodded at me. A smile stretched his face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had suddenly developed the ability to read my mind.”
“I appreciate you complimenting my keen powers of observation, but it’s not that difficult to guess what you’re thinking. You’re rather transparent, actually.”
He dropped his forearms on the table. “Really? You’re the only person to have ever said so. Most think I’m a closed book.”
That was true. I’d read it often enough in the profiles I’d read in the business press. “Tough nut to crack,” “plays his cards close to his chest,” and “should spend some time in Vegas” is how reporters had described him, and yet I didn’t see it. His mannerisms were so familiar to me, so obvious, that I wondered how no one else could see it. Which made me think …
“I wonder … could it be I have an easier time reading you because subconsciously I recognize some of your mannerisms? Things you did before?”
Shrugging, he said, “Who’s to say? We really have no way of knowing.” His voice said he was done with this line of discussion and didn’t want me to say anything else on the matter.
I peered at him for a couple of seconds, taking in his features. “You don’t like it that I can see through your mask, do you?”
William stroked his chin uncomfortably and dragged his hand to the back of his neck, which he gripped tightly. “It’s something I’m working on.”
“But?”
He winced. “But no, I don’t like it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve lived several centuries making sure people couldn’t see through me and you’ve upended that. You put me on my guard.”
“I put you on your guard?” I laughed and shook my head. “Says the big bad vampire.”
“I told you I would never hurt you.”
“And I promised the same.”
He stared, as if trying to figure me out, looking for the loophole in my declaration. “You could change your mind.”
“As could you,” I volleyed back.
“You question my honor?” His nostrils flared.
I clenched my jaw. “You question mine?”
We glared at one another, and my heartbeat thundered in my chest as William’s eyes flashed with unholy light. Blinking back his anger, he said, “Touché Ms. Donnelly.”
Ms. Donnelly? Was that his subtle way of reminding me I was a stranger to him, no more than a new acquaintance? I picked up my glass to take a drink and my hands shook with anger. His eyes followed the movement, watched my throat swallow down the ruby liquid.
“You’re angry.”
I set my glass down harder than I’d meant to and was relieved when it didn’t shatter. “What gave it away?” I demanded. “Was it my clenched jaw? Shaking hands? Red face? Sputtering heart?”
I shot him daggers and he rested his hand on my arm.
“What did I say?”
“You called me Ms. Donnelly, as if I was nothing to you. That’s what you called me the
first time we spoke. When you were an asshole.” I pulled my arm from his grip and crossed my chest.
“Ah,” he intoned, leaning back. “I see.”
“What is it you see?” I responded churlishly.
“You, my dear—” he placed extra emphasis on those two words “—do not like to be teased.”
I harrumphed and he laughed. “Dare I even say, you hate it?”
“You’re crazy.”
“And you’re no fun.”
“I am too fun!” I shot out. “I am loads of fun.” I pushed back my chair and stood, glaring down at him.
When he raised his eyebrow and smirked I realized he was teasing me again. Goddamnit. I really couldn’t handle being teased. When had I become so humorless? Had I ever been fun? I must have been at some point, unfortunately I couldn’t remember when that might have been. It seemed like my world had been blanketed in gray and black for so long that who I was before had become lost.
Abashed, I sat back down. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
He chuckled and the sound flowed over me like warm honey, thick and sweet. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“There is. I was acting like a child.”
“Well, I am 335 years older than you. I’ll have to give you some leeway,” he smirked. “Now, what were we talking about?”
“Your eating habits,” I murmured into my empty glass.
Taking it from my hand, he refilled it and passed it back.
“Yes, how could I forget?” He sighed, chagrined I wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “As I was saying, the majority of blood I consume comes from the bagged supply. There have been times, very recent times in fact, where I’ve acted on my baser instincts and fed from what you might call the unwilling,” said while staring at me to gauge my reaction.
I tried to keep my face a mask of calm as I decided how to acknowledge his admission. I nodded and tipped my glass, indication he should keep talking. “Go on.”
I didn’t really know where his confession was going, but I was afraid it might change everything. Only now did I realize I’d chosen to ignore the true implications of that. Yes, William had drunk from me the night before, and he’d admitted he’d had other lovers from who he also drank, but this went way beyond that. If I’d been uncomfortable with the idea of him fucking and sucking, how the hell would I handle learning he was a cold-blooded killer?
Warily, he continued. “Sometimes I hunt. It’s who—what—I am.” When I didn’t respond, he coughed into his hand, and asked, “You’re not really shocked by this, are you?”
When I brought my wine to my lips, I hoped he didn’t see my hands shaking but of course he did. The man didn’t miss a thing. Damn supernatural senses.
I swallowed. “I’m shocked you’re so blasé about it. You speak of killing as if it’s nothing. I’m a very cynical person—pretty unimpressed with humans as a species, in fact—but is it so hard to understand why I’d have a hard time accepting the wholesale execution of innocent people based on …what is it you called them … your ‘baser instincts’?”
As I spoke, my voice rose a few octaves and I tried to reign in my temper because I didn’t want to fight with him, but I couldn’t help my reaction either. It was completely and utterly without question an unacceptable way to approach the world. I didn’t walk around with an automatic rifle mowing down every pig I saw because I loved bacon. And those were fucking pigs! Regardless of what I felt for William, or what our connection was, I didn’t think I could condone by the random killing of another human being just because William felt like hunting.
“I’m not sure I can be with you if that’s your stance.”
It wasn’t an ultimatum, per se, but when William’s eyes flashed white hot and his lips thinned into a hard line, I knew he’d taken it as one.
“Is that so?” he asked, his voice deathly calm.
“What did you expect?” I shouted, jumping up and stalking across the room. “Did you think I was going to be all, ‘Hey William, how’s the murder coming along? Killed any tasty morsels lately?’”
The more heated I became the calmer William was, retreating into a world of frosty stares and cool indifference.
“Oh my god, you thought I’d be okay with it, didn’t you?” I yelled. “Because I was like, ‘Hello sexy vampire, take me to your lair and make me your lover’ you thought I’d just go along with whatever you did, that something this monumental wouldn’t matter to me.”
“What, exactly, did you expect Olivia?”
“I dunno!” I flung my arms wide. “That maybe you had some blood slave or something? Or there was a service you could call where some protein-rich volunteer showed up at your house with bared arteries?”
“Don’t be naïve, it’s not a good look on you.”
I sputtered. “It’s not being naïve. It’s being completely uninformed. Until last night I had no fucking idea that vampires even existed. How in the hell was I supposed to know how it all worked?” I stomped around the room. “It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, what with also learning I’m some freaky ass doppelganger reincarnation and oh yeah! You’re also my ex-husband and apparently I’m your prisoner in this fucking medieval castle!”
“Stop!”
My feet refused to move and my mouth clamped shut. What the ever loving fuck?!
His voice laced with ice, he hissed, “First, it’s nice to know where slavery ranks on your list of capital offenses. Second, I am not your ex-husband; I am Ceara’s widower. Third, you are not my prisoner. You can leave any time you want. Perhaps you should consider doing so now.”
I tried to answer but couldn’t. When words refused to come, I attempted to storm out but my body wouldn’t cooperate. With all my might I tried to break the hold he had on me but nothing happened. My face red and sweat trickling down my spine, I stared at him with hatred in my eyes. Who did he think he was?
“I am a vampire. You knew this when you came here. Last night when you fucked me, you didn’t care what my baser instincts were. In fact, you reveled in them.”
I growled my response, and with a whoosh the sound burst from my body. Taking a deep breath, I screamed, “That was different you motherfucking asshole! How dare—” before I could get the words out, my mouth slammed closed and my voice fled.
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and trickled down my face. I’d never felt so helpless in all of my life, and that included the minutes after I’d been informed of my parents’ death. I’d known then that there was nothing I could do to change what had happened, but this was different. This wasn’t something I had to live with for the rest of my life. I could leave. I would leave. Just as soon as this motherfucker undid his vampire voodoo.
With a cross between a low growl and a sarcastic snicker, William raised an annoyingly perfect eyebrow. “And how, exactly, is it different?” he asked, knowing full well he had me in a bind. Both literally and figuratively.
Fuck. It wasn’t different and we both knew it. When I’d left with him last night, there’d been no question in my mind what he was. And regardless of what movies or TV shows told you, vampires lived on human blood. They didn’t suck poor little bunnies dry, nor did they abstain for moral reasons. They were cold-blooded killers. This one just happened to have a hold on me I didn’t know if I could break. And despite what I’d just learned, I had to admit I didn’t know if I wanted to break it. Yes, the idea of him culling the population was abhorrent, and yes, it made me furious … but for the first time I wondered if it was something I could overlook.
No!
No, no, no.
I narrowed my eyes at William, unsure if those earlier thoughts had been my own or if he’d put them there to trick me, to wear down my indignation.
He held his hands aloft and took a step back.
Taking three angry steps forward, I poked him hard in the chest with each word I spoke. “You. Were. In. My. Head.” I wasn’t asking for confirmation; it was a statement of f
act.
“Of course I was. What did you expect?”
He shot me an exasperated look and stepped into my space so that my finger dug into his steel pecs. I stumbled back as he advanced, his shirt gripped tight in my fist. When my back hit the wall, William loomed over me, his face all hard planes and ruthless angles.
“Stop it,” I whispered, dropped my hands and flattening them against the wall. “You’re scaring me.”
“Good,” he bit out, then crushed his mouth to mine.
With one hand, I pushed him away; with the other, I pulled him close. Love, hate. Fire, ice. My head—my heart—was a violent swirl of emotions. I wanted him; I detested him. I needed him; I abhorred him.
We tumbled to the ground, our hands ripping at our clothes, needing to touch each each. Even when we were both naked and panting, I couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. He rolled us over so I straddled his hips and I ground my pelvis into him.
“Now,” he ordered. “Fuck me now Olivia.”
I reached between us and found William’s cock hard and ready; glacial steel in my hand. I guided him to the heart of me and he surged forward. In one solid thrust he buried himself in my fiery heat, stretched me to the brink. I moaned, both in pleasure and pain, and took a moment to adjust to his size before I rocked along his thick, unyielding length. I dropped forward and kissed him aggressively, our lips, tongues, and teeth clashing. I wanted to consume him; I needed him to devour me.
“Harder,” I begged.
He banded his solid arms around my waist, holding me in place, as drove into me from below. Quicker than I could have imagined, his hips slammed between my thighs. The sound of our combative fucking, mingled with my cries of passion and his carnal growls, echoed off the walls. In a flash, I was on my back, the carpet fibers digging in to my skin, as his rigid cock plundered me.
“Do you see what I am?” he bit out between thrusts.
My eyes scrunched closed, I shook my head in the affirmative.
“Say it.”
“Yes.” The word came out as a ragged breath.
“What am I Olivia?”
“A vampire,” I answered on a moan as his cock hit my g-spot and stars flashed behind my eyelids.
Resurrection: Part One of the Macauley Vampire Trilogy (A Paranormal Romance) Page 14
