Night Flight

by Margaret Carter

  After checking the time on the East Coast, she punched in her father's phone number. Since it was well after 6 p.m. there, he ought to be awake. Curled up on her bed, she drummed her fingers on the nightstand through four rings, until he answered. She felt illogically comforted by the sound of his cultured New England accent. In a rush of words, she poured out her distress at Volnar's ultimatum.

  "I'm surprised you didn't call Claude," Roger said. "He's so much closer to you geographically. Or Juliette." Roger's brother Claude had a home in Los Angeles and spent most of his time there.

  "Neither of them would really understand. Sure, they'd try to sympathize, but they don't have the human viewpoint on sex. They'd wonder what I'm making such a fuss about. Even my mother—Lord Volnar picked you as her mate, and she went along with it."

  "He didn't try to override Juliette's veto power, though," Roger said. "She wanted a child and accepted me of her own free will. Besides, it wasn't quite the same thing. We never actually had intercourse; it was done with artificial insemination."

  "How?" Gillian asked. "I mean, if you couldn't become fertile without being stimulated by a female—"

  "I was." Embarrassment tinged his voice. "In the room with her, under the influence of her scent, I ejaculated repeatedly until Volnar decided we had enough of a specimen for conception. After he performed the insemination procedure and I left, I understand Juliette inserted a cervical cap to prevent contamination, so to speak, and then mated with him to satisfy her—needs."

  "Okay, probably more than I wanted to know," Gillian muttered.

  A pause, while Roger spoke to someone in the background. The extension at his end clicked on, and Gillian heard the voice of Britt Loren, Roger's office partner, bond-mate, and donor. "Did I hear right?" the woman said. "Volnar ordered you to mate with a male you can't stand? I'd think any vampire would be shocked at that. Doesn't the female have an absolute right to choose her own—uh—stud?"

  "Usually," said Gillian. "But in this case, according to him, the fact that I'm a hybrid outweighs the established custom. It's my duty to breed for the good of the species." She knew her voice sounded bitter but didn't try to soften it.

  "I got exactly the same argument," Roger said. "Not that I regret having fathered you, but at the time I resented the pressure."

  "Don't let them push you around, girl," said Britt.

  Roger dryly commented, "That's easier said than done. We're talking about Gillian's adviser, who also happens to be head of the Council of Elders."

  "Then don't you have any suggestions at all?" Depression settled like fog around Gillian.

  "One possible counterattack," said Roger. "If you had an alternate choice to offer…isn't there anyone you'd want, if you were left to your own preference?"

  "Not anybody who's available. I'd trust Claude, but he's totally committed to his human lover, just like you and Britt. Besides, he's too closely related to me. There are a couple of other males nearer my age that I wouldn't mind mating with, but they have the same drawback—attached to human bond-mates."

  Soft laughter from Britt. "Why are all the good ones taken? I thought that was strictly a problem for human females."

  Gillian sighed. "I'd even accept Volnar as my initiator. I suggested that to him. He turned me down, of course—didn't want to `waste' my fertility. Not that I expect to be fertile the first time anyway. I think he's making a big deal out of nothing."

  "If you don't want to become pregnant," Roger said, "that's entirely in your own hands, isn't it?"

  "Sure, I could mentally block an embryo from implanting. But I'd rather not be faced with the situation at all. Why can't I just skip the whole thing?" She pulled a pillow into her lap and hunched over it.

  "From what I hear," said Britt, "it doesn't work that way. When you go into estrus, you have to—relieve the pressure, so to speak. Right, Roger?"

  "How would I know?" he said with a tinge of impatience. "As far as I've been told, yes. You're one-fourth human, though. Your experience might not be typical."

  Gillian's depression lightened a degree. "I've thought about that, but I was afraid it might be just wishful thinking. If I could keep from going into heat at all—

  Maybe if I don't let any male vampires near me, it won't happen. Or it'll be weaker, not completely unbearable. Once I've ridden it out and it's over with, I won't have to worry about it for another couple of years at least."

  Britt said, "And you can't…well…handle the discomfort yourself, can you?"

  "I don't think so. I tried, sort of, earlier tonight. It didn't help." She caught herself squirming at the memory.

  "I could have told you that," said Roger, "and I'm more human than you are. All it does is make you hungry."

  "That's what I found out." Gillian caught herself sighing aloud again, as her thoughts drifted back to her evening with Paul. "What if I wanted to mate with a human male?"

  "Aha," Britt said. "I have a feeling that question isn't hypothetical."

  Gillian froze in embarrassed silence.

  "Well?" Roger said. "Should we assume you're thinking of getting involved with an ephemeral?"

  "I don't know about `involved.' I do have a friend—" She wasn't sure, herself, whether she would seriously consider intimacy with Paul.

  "You're very young and inexperienced for that," Roger said. "The pitfalls of getting entangled with a human partner who'll have to be told what you really are—"

  "Oh, Roger, don't give her a hard time. Gillian, do you think this man is attracted to you?"

  Roger didn't give Gillian time to answer. "How could she be sure? Colleague, you know as well as I do that our kind are irresistibly seductive whether we're trying to be or not. You've commented on the phenomenon often enough."

  "True," Britt said. "Unless you're consciously suppressing it, you project that magnetism all the time, especially when you're hungry."

  Gillian recalled how she had been reacting to Paul lately. "Every time I get near him, I'm hungry."

  "Uh-oh," Britt said.

  Roger echoed her tone. "Have you fed on him yet?"

  "Once, earlier tonight." She half-consciously kneaded the pillow with her free hand.

  "You're in serious danger of getting fixated on this man. I can hear it in your voice. That will cloud your perception even more."

  If she'd been human, Gillian would have started crying. "Do you mean I'll never be sure whether he likes me or he's just…hypnotized by me?"

  "The point is," Roger said, "you have to be very careful. That's where your lack of experience comes in."

  "You're bonded with Britt. So is Claude with his human mate. You made it work, and you're not the only ones." Noticing that one of her nails had torn the pillowcase, she relaxed her grip.

  "All of whom are significantly older than you," Roger said. "And I know of some vampires equally experienced who've failed disastrously at such relationships."

  "Don't be such a wet blanket," Britt said. "Not that he doesn't have a point, Gillian. You have to consider not only how this man will react to the truth about you, but also how he'll adjust in the long run. You're immune to sickness and almost impossible to kill, and you'll never age. How will he feel about that when he's turning into a decrepit old man?"

  "You're doing okay so far," Gillian said, knowing she must sound like a sulky child.

  "Not without some adjustment problems over the years," said Britt.

  "And don't overlook the restraint you'd have to exercise," Roger said. "To keep him healthy, you'd have to content yourself with small sips and make up the difference with animal blood or warmed-over blood bank products. True, the quality more than makes up for the limited quantity. But don't underestimate the problem."

  "Then are you telling me it's impossible?"

  "Of course not. I only want you to make the decision with your eyes wide open," Roger said.

  Britt added, "Back to the short-term problem, if you take a human male for a mate, you have to expect certa
in…deficiencies, compared to a vampire. With one of your own kind, your pheromones keep him up to the challenge, so to speak. An ordinary man can't ejaculate eight or ten times per hour. If he's young and healthy, and he's been celibate for a while, he might perform three times in the twelve hours you'll be in active estrus. With, uh, encouragement from your hypnotic powers, he might go as high as five or six times. That's a physiological limit you can't get around."

  "Roger, your mother mated with a human lover," said Gillian, "or neither of us would be here. Too bad I can't asked her about it." Gillian's grandmother had been lynched, along with her human husband, in 1940.

  "Yes, and she's the only one I know of. There's a good reason why most long-term interspecies liaisons involve a human female and a male vampire."

  "For a human female, that special…technique…is absolutely unforgettable."

  "Britt, please!" Roger said.

  She laughed softly. "You're so uptight sometimes, colleague."

  "I'm human enough to have a residual distaste for discussing my sex life with my daughter, even indirectly."

  Gillian had the feeling that the conversation was racing out of her control. She'd received all the useful advice she could reasonably expect. "Thanks—I'll think about what you said. I'll be careful."

  If it's not already too late for that, she thought as she hung up the phone.

  Chapter Six

  To distract herself, Gillian spent the next hour sorting piles of photographic prints into file folders, each labeled for a different prospective book. If she couldn't indulge her desire for Paul, at least she could immerse herself in the work they shared. Still left with too much time to fill before dawn, she turned on the computer to check her e-mail.

  As she scrolled through her in-box, the doorbell rang. Walking toward the living room, she extended her empathic sense to check on the visitor. She touched the mind of a vampire, but not a familiar one. The intrusion puzzled her. Solitary predators didn't make social calls for the fun of it, and why hadn't the visitor phoned ahead? The presence on the other side of the barrier radiated no hostility, but she switched off the alarm and unlocked the bolt with wary deliberation, opening the door only as far as the chain allowed. She scented the metallic aroma of a male vampire's flesh.

  "May I come in, Gillian?" Luciano's voice, smooth as melted chocolate, made the hairs on her arms prickle. Through the gap she scanned his face, strikingly pale against the mane of black hair. Traces of red glinted in his silver-gray eyes.

  "What for? I don't have anything to say to you."

  "Surely you don't want me to shout through the door." His voice had a foreign lilt, too vague to be called an accent.

  Removing the chain, she stepped out of his way. "Okay, but make it quick."

  "You won't be asking for that in a few more nights," he said, gliding past her to take a seat, uninvited, on the couch. He flashed a smile that verged on a leer, a gesture she'd never seen from a male of her own species before. "Lord Volnar informed you of our arrangement, didn't he?"

  She remained standing, to keep whatever advantage she could. "Why, Luciano? You don't like me any better than I like you."

  His grin broadened. "As a favor to the Prime Elder. And what makes you think I don't like you? Human females, from what I've seen, are ready and willing all the time. With your first estrus on top of that—"

  "Oh, so that's the attraction?" She didn't care to waste breath explaining that she didn't share this human trait. "You want to copulate with a prey animal? A taste of bestiality?"

  "And perhaps a taste of your part-human blood. Call it what you wish. I'm sure we'll enjoy each other."

  A pain in her jaw made her aware that she was grinding her teeth. Struggling for a courteous tone, she said, "No, because it isn't going to happen. Go back to Volnar and tell him the `arrangement' is off."

  The feral smile vanished. "As I understand it, you don't have any say in the matter. And you should consider yourself lucky that I offered to initiate you. Not many eligible males would consent to mate with a half-breed."

  Her heart sped up, and she tasted acid. Swallowing the vileness, she reined her anger until her pulse slowed. "That's my problem. You'd better leave now."

  "Not until we've discussed the logistics. Where do you want to consummate the union? Here, or on neutral ground? Perhaps a luxury hotel. Unless you're worried about the staff hearing you scream?"

  Her fingers involuntarily curled, clawlike. "Aren't you listening? I won't spend ten minutes with you, much less a night. You are not my choice."

  Luciano darted across the room and grasped her right arm, too quickly for her to dodge. A gasp caught in her throat. His eyes locked on hers. He placed a fingertip on her lips, while the thumb of his other hand caressed her wrist. "Why are you fighting me, young one? I can give you what you need, and it's only for one night, after all."

  "Are you trying to seduce me like a human female? You know that won't work. I'm immune."

  "You won't be, two or three nights from now." He leaned over to sniff her hair, his breath tickling her ear. An unpleasant shiver ran down her back like a trickle of water, yet she couldn't force herself to pull away. "Yes, you smell like sweet musk. It won't be much longer."

  Unwillingly she recalled what Volnar had said about Luciano's "experience." Thanks to their empathic perception, vampires normally couldn't lie to each other, and Luciano made no attempt to shield his emotions. He was telling the truth about the state of near-ripeness he sensed in her, and his eagerness was sincere. Her stomach knotted, and something deeper inside quivered. She shook her head.

  "I know how to satisfy you." His tongue flicked her earlobe. "You feel the craving already, don't you? Do you think you can relieve it by yourself? Don't bother trying. Artificial aids won't help, either. You'll need a live male inside you."

  The image generated a rush of heat in her lower abdomen. She involuntarily swayed into Luciano's embrace, going rigid when she realize what she was doing. No! I don't want him! She wouldn't allow her body to trick her into surrendering to a creature who felt nothing for her but contempt. She stepped back, trying to tug her hand free.

  He squeezed tighter and closed the gap between them. His other arm wrapped around her. Too astonished to evade him, she felt his open mouth cover hers. She had never seen any vampire kiss another. Maybe some of them toyed with that human custom, but none she had ever met.

  When Luciano's tongue probed between her lips, she whipped her free hand up to scratch his face. He sprang back with a snarl. Blood beaded on his cheek. Rather than attack her again, he shut his eyes in a moment's concentration. The thin slashes closed.

  He glared at her, the red sparks in his eyes more prominent than before. "I won't waste time fighting you now. You'll beg for my touch soon enough. I'll see you then." He stalked out and slammed the door.

  Chapter Seven

  Shaking, Gillian fastened the deadbolt and chain, then reset the alarm. That does it, I have to get away! The sensations that still stirred in the pit of her stomach told her that she didn't dare let Luciano within reach when she entered estrus. Her instincts would give in to him no matter how much she loathed the idea. She had to hole up somewhere until the hormonal storm passed.

  Where? Roger or his brother Claude would give her sanctuary at a moment's notice. Her mother would probably do the same, though with more of an argument. And those were the first places Volnar would look. Gillian knew that hiding in plain sight would only delay the inevitable by a few hours.

  Leave town and check into a motel hundreds of miles away? Using her credit card for airfare and lodging would leave a trail Volnar could follow. If she withdrew cash, she would still have to buy a plane ticket, and her adviser need only cover the concourse at LAX and interview one reservation clerk after another, using his hypnotic influence, until he discovered Gillian's destination.

  Could she evade him by car? But where to go?

  She collapsed onto the couch, her hands still tr
embling. Paul had invited her to his cabin. She could take him up on that offer. She'd never visited there before. Volnar and Luciano had no way of knowing about the place's existence, much less its location. All she had to do was get to Paul without alerting the two older vampires. As if either one of them would stake out my house, anyway. But just in case, she would behave as if they did.

  After tossing a few clothes into her overnight bag, she stuffed the inside zipper compartment of her purse with hundreds of dollars in various denominations, thankful for Volnar's training on this point, at least. He'd always insisted that she keep plenty of emergency cash tucked away. Ready to leave, she turned off all the lights except for the porch lamp, then peered between the curtains to survey the street out front. No sign of Luciano, no wisp of a vampire's aura lingering in the dark. If he lurked out there, he'd veiled himself from her sight. Most likely, though, he wouldn't have bothered to hang around.

  Still, she exited through the back door and didn't head for her car. On the threshold she paused to wrap an illusion of invisibility around herself, a psychic shield to deflect any eyes that glanced her way. Only a member of her own species powerful enough to penetrate that shield—such as Volnar, who was nowhere near—would see her. To ephemerals and lower animals, she flitted through the night like a wisp of fog.

  She walked four blocks to the nearest Seven-Eleven, where she called a cab on the pay phone. When the taxi pulled up, she remembered at the last minute to make herself visible before stepping to the curb. She gave the driver Paul's address. Only when she was walking up to his door did she stop to think about the lateness of the hour. Paul would think she had gone crazy. No matter, he wouldn't shut her out.

  Seconds after she rang the buzzer, she heard his footsteps on the carpeted floor. Why wasn't he asleep at this hour? Lying awake fantasizing about her, maybe? The thought gave her a frisson of guilty delight. He cracked the door a cautious inch, then unhooked the chain and flung it wide when he saw her.