Gillian showered and dressed, resisting the impulse to send Paul another telepathic greeting, but constantly aware of his presence in the house, moving from room to room.
She went into the kitchen, where he silently poured her a glass of milk. The aroma of bacon and eggs pervaded the air. Sitting at the table, she watched him serve himself a plate from the stove. Only when he sat opposite her with his food and a glass of orange juice did he finally speak.
"How often is this going to happen? Every seven years, like a Vulcan?"
She didn't pretend not to understand the question. "No more than twice a decade, normally."
"That's a relief," he said without a trace of a smile. "Any more would probably kill me. That's assuming we ever do it again."
She almost choked on a swallow of milk. "Why wouldn't we?"
"Next time you'll have plenty of warning to find a mate of your own species. I figure now that I've serviced you, we go back to being just collaborators, right?"
"Serviced? Is that how you see it?" His cold manner baffled her. "Why would you think that? We share a blood bond now. Our relationship can't be casual."
"A bond you created without asking me. That's a heck of a lot more serious than hypnotizing me a couple of times." She felt him bristle with outrage like a porcupine spreading its quills.
"You enjoyed it as much as I did."
"Damn it, that's not the point!" He shoveled in a few bites of fried egg. "You invaded my mind. Can't you understand why that bothers me?"
"I'm trying to. Paul, I didn't plot to take control of your brain and turn you into a zombie. I wanted to let you share what I was feeling. What's wrong with that?"
"You could've asked."
"I didn't think it out. I acted in the heat of passion. Plus, I really didn't know how intense it would be. After all, I don't make a habit of this."
"Yeah?" Chomping on a slice of bacon, he stared at her for a minute. "You never did this blood bond thing before?"
"Only with my mentor, and that's not the same at all."
"So maybe you have some excuse. But I'm still not sure how I feel. I need to think about it. This is a hell of an information load to process." He pushed his half-empty plate aside and stood up.
"You haven't finished eating. You need nourishment after last night."
"I can feed myself without you giving me orders." He headed for the back door. "I'm going for a walk."
"Okay, we can talk about—"
"Alone. I said I have to think, and that means without your…influence. My brain doesn't work right when you're around."
After he'd left, she drank the rest of her milk and fought the urge to follow him telepathically. Already his absence made her feel half-empty. How would she endure it if he continued to reject her? She wandered into the office and settled down to read some of his rough drafts. The thought of collaborating with Paul in this strained mode chilled her. Which would be worse, never seeing or touching him again, or working with him while this barrier separated them?
Oh, no, I think I'm addicted! She'd been warned about the risk of feeding too often from one victim or feeding at all from a donor she was emotionally entangled with. Yet the warnings hadn't given her any inkling of how fast and hard the condition could strike.
Giving up on work, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the deck in the deepening twilight. How long would Paul stay away? He couldn't hike around in the woods all night, could he?
She'd nearly finished the wine when a mental scream ripped through her brain. Paul! She leaped to her feet and extended her thoughts toward him.
Stay away from me, Gillian, it's a trap.
Ignoring his plea, she insinuated herself into his senses. For a few seconds she saw through Paul's eyes. A man led him to a car parked on an otherwise deserted dirt road. Luciano. Paul's mind still functioned, but his body obeyed the vampire's commands.
Relaxing the link for the moment, Gillian hurried into the cabin, scrambled into her shoes, and rummaged through the junk on Paul's bedroom dresser. She thanked the Dark Powers that he wasn't one of those men who automatically loaded their pockets whenever they dressed. She found his car keys almost immediately. Alone, she could have shapechanged and flown to intercept the pair, but she would need the car for Paul.
Of course he was right about the trap, but that fact was irrelevant. She couldn't leave him in Luciano's hands.
In the car she opened her mind to Paul's without making him aware of the contact. He drew her like one magnetic pole attracting its opposite. The only way she could lose the trail would be if her target drove out of telepathic range.
Despite her frustration at having to follow the windings of back roads through the trees instead of making a crow's-flight straight shot to the location, it took her less than an hour to catch up with Luciano. She found his vehicle, a rented four-door sedan, parked in the driveway of a cabin slightly similar to Paul's. She screeched to a stop on the side of the road, jammed the keys in her pocket, and raced toward the house.
Luciano stepped onto the front porch, leaving the door open behind him. Sensing Paul's presence inside—awake, unharmed—she itched to shove the other vampire out of the way and barge in. She knew, though, that Luciano's greater strength would make that difficult.
He greeted her with a gloating smile. "I expected to have to telephone you. I planned to let you suffer awhile, then tell you where I'd taken your pet. How did you get here?"
Her lips curled in an involuntary snarl. She had to inhale and exhale several times to bring her voice under control. "Never mind that. Let me see him."
"Only one way I can think of, but surely not—" He scowled, his aura darkening. "Don't tell me you bonded with this ephemeral!"
"None of your business." She would not allow Luciano to make her ashamed of sharing herself with Paul, yet his scorn showed clearly how most of her kind would regard the act.
"Well, no matter. However it happened, I believe you're actually addicted to him. If he's that important to you, all the better. You'll give me what I want, or he'll suffer."
She stalked toward him, pausing only when he emitted a warning growl. "How did you find me, anyway?"
"Naive child." He sighed in mock sympathy. "It was no trouble at all. I asked around until I discovered that you had only one regular associate, your professional collaborator. By questioning his neighbors, I learned that he'd vanished overnight and not come back. By further interrogation among his friends, I found out about his vacation property. Of course, all the people I talked to have forgotten they ever met me."
"Very clever. Now, what do you want?" As if she couldn't guess.
"You, of course, my promised mate. You'll be on the verge of desperation soon. After our night together, I'll return your pet to you."
"Forget about it, Luciano. It's too late for that."
"What the devil are you talking about?" He took a couple of paces away from the door.
"You've missed your chance. I'm not in estrus anymore."
Gliding closer to her, he sniffed the air like a dog. "Damn. You aren't. Who—"
In a dash almost too fast for her eyes to track, he sprinted to her side and grabbed her arm. He bent to inhale the scent of her hair. She flinched, and he squeezed her forearm.
"That ephemeral! I can smell him on you." He released her with a contemptuous shove. "You actually mated with that creature."
"Don't you dare hurt him!"
Luciano radiated disgust. "Begging, now? Incredible—you have tender feelings for him, don't you? The bond is more than lust? I knew all along this business of grafting human genes into our bloodline was a mistake."
Gillian's fists involuntarily clenched, and a crimson fog thickened before her eyes. The only thing that kept her from striking out was the fear that Luciano would inflict his wrath on Paul.
"If you had to get infected by this human disease called love," Luciano continued, "you didn't have to make it worse by going mad over a lower animal."
Gillian drew a long, shuddering breath to dispel the mist of rage that shrouded her brain. "Enough. Just give him to me."
Luciano's lips curled in a snarl. "I ought to tear him to shreds, just for the time I've wasted on you half-breed."
"If you kill him, I swear I'll—"
"Murder me? Break the most fundamental law of our kind?" He taunted her with a feral smile. "Oh, Dark Powers, girl, at least stop acting like a hysterical child. Why would I bother killing your pet? Come and get him."
He stepped aside with an ironic gesture of welcome. Gillian ran up the driveway to the open door. Why hadn't Paul come out already? What had Luciano done to him?
Chapter Twelve
The interior smelled dusty, shut up and unused. Luciano must have "borrowed" a cabin whose owners hadn't visited in some time. Tracking Paul's thoughts, she found him in a bedroom. He lay atop the rumpled covers of a fully made bed, his arms stretched to the sides and handcuffed to the headboard. His legs were hobbled by ropes tied around his ankles and the posts of the footboard. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw her.
The air rippled with the speed of Luciano's entry. He slipped past Gillian and appeared beside the bed. "Should I give him back to you right away or play with him a little? You arrived so fast I didn't have time for any recreation."
"If you hurt him, I'll rip your head off, law or no law."
"Don't worry, I don't consider him worth the trouble. I won't damage your pet."
"Stop calling him that!"
Luciano turned to Paul. "Think she protests too much? That's all you are to her, you know, a pet. We're superior beings, and your kind are our prey."
"It's not true, Paul!" she cried. "You know I don't feel that way about you."
Paul gave her a bleak stare.
Luciano bared his teeth at Gillian. "And you—do you really believe he's in love with you? Would he look twice at you if not for your vampire magnetism? That's the allure, you know. Without that, no human male would give you a second glance, much less get a cockstand for you. You don't have the kind of body they lust for."
"Stop it," she whispered. She knew he registered the impact of every barb he shot. Her agitation wouldn't allow her to guard her emotions from him.
Pulling down the collar of Paul's shirt, Luciano forced his head to one side and bent to lick his throat. "How does that feel? Not too different from the way she made you feel, I daresay?" He scraped a fingernail across Paul's neck. Blood oozed from the scratch. The vampire lapped at the drops, while his hand skimmed down his victim's chest and abdomen to the groin. Paul's body jerked, and a moan escaped from him.
Gillian felt his terror and revulsion at his own physical response. She stood panting, her hands curling and uncurling like claws. The scarlet fog in her brain almost obliterated thought, but not quite. She retained enough control to realize that charging the vampire would endanger her bond-mate.
"You like this, don't you?" Luciano breathed in Paul's ear, while his fingers danced like spiders over all the most vulnerable spots. "Doesn't matter which vampire is feasting on you, the sensations are just as keen." His tongue flicked the scrape again. "Ah, I notice you've recovered from Gillian's use of your cock. It's nicely stiffened. I could make you spend right now."
Paul closed his eyes and groaned, struggling to writhe away from Luciano's touch.
"But I won't." The vampire stepped back from the bed. "Take him, girl, and good riddance to both of you."
She pounced to the bedside and snapped first one ankle rope, then the other. Paul cast an agonized gaze on her when she approached the headboard.
"Here," Luciano said from the doorway. He reached into his pocket and tossed a key to Gillian. "Do you really want to release him? Now he knows what our kind are really like. Do you think he won't loathe the sight of you?"
He vanished, and as she began to unlock the handcuffs, she heard a car start and accelerate into the distance.
With his hands free, Paul hunched over, rubbing his wrists. Gillian watched, afraid to speak or touch him. His mind, boiling with turmoil and outrage, lay open to her. Finally he looked up.
"I have your car," she said. "Let's get out of here."
"Right." The word dropped from him like a stone.
When they got to the car, he walked to the driver's side and reached for the keys. She dropped them into his hand, catching a stray thought that letting her drive him home would be one thing too much to endure. The concept bewildered her, but she sensed that taking the wheel held a symbolic value for him.
Once they got on the road, she had to ask. "What's bothering you? Luciano's gone. It's all over."
"Can't you understand how I feel, being rescued by you? By a woman?" The anguish in his voice ripped into her.
"I don't believe you said that. I've never thought of you as a reactionary male chauvinist."
"Me neither, but it must have been hiding in me somewhere."
She swallowed her rising anger, recognizing it as mostly a reflection of his. "No, I don't understand."
"Then I sure can't explain it." Tight-lipped, he glared out the windshield.
They'd almost reached the cabin before he spoke again. "What that creep said. I'm a pet to you. How about it?"
"Paul, you know that isn't true. You never thought that way when we worked together or last night while we made love."
"Mated, you mean. You can't love a lower animal. Any man would have served the purpose."
His tone pierced her like an icicle to the heart. "You've known me for over two years. And now I've turned into a monster overnight?"
"I got a glimpse of your family background, so to speak."
Her jaws ached with clenching them in frustration. "How can I convince you I'm not like that?"
"I don't know," he said, "when you can hypnotize me into believing any claim you make."
"I promised not to do that again."
"Sure, but how can I believe your promises? Look what your vampire friend did to me. Controlled me like a robot."
"He's not my friend." She breathed deeply, striving to keep her voice level. "Yes, any vampire could do that, but I won't. Never."
He pulled the car into his driveway and turned to look at her. "But I'll never know, will I? I could be under your control without realizing it. And how do I know what I really feel for you? The way I reacted when that monster touched me…" She felt him swallow a surge of nausea.
She heaved an exasperated sigh. Put that way, the situation constituted an impossible Catch-22.
"And another thing," said Paul, opening the car door, "what did he mean by `addicted'?"
Too late to deny or evade; Paul would distrust her worse if she did. "It's a fixation, a physiochemical thing, that results from feeding on the same donor too many times, or feeding on a donor with emotional involvement."
"Wonderful." He stood upright and stared at her across the roof of the car as she got out. "So you can't be sure, either. For all you know, when you think you care about me, it might just be addiction talking."
Gillian shook her head. "It's not that way. I cared about you first—that's why I got hooked so fast when I tasted you."
He stalked into the house, and she followed. When he headed for his own room, though, she didn't pursue. Instead, she sat brooding in the unlighted living room.
* * * * *
Paul stood under the shower letting hot water flood over him. He leaned against the tile wall with his eyes closed, leaking tears. How could he ever face Gillian again, much less make love to her? She'd watched him get an erection for that monster. He felt as foul as if he'd had sex with a reptile. Even if she, with her nonhuman mindset, could put that incident behind her, Paul didn’t believe he could. The humiliation of seeing her face while he lay there helpless would haunt him. He probably wouldn't be able to perform with her anymore, remembering that.
The worst of it was, Gillian didn't have a clue why he felt this way. Sure, she could read his emotions, but they obvious
ly baffled her. Just silly human scruples, for all she understood. He must have been crazy to believe he could share love, or anything besides animal passion, with a woman of another species. Maybe, deep down, she really did regard him as a pet, a simple creature to be soothed into docility until the next time she needed its services.
When the hot water cooled to lukewarm, he turned it off, rubbed dry with skin-reddening roughness, and ducked into his room for fresh clothes. He had to get away from her as soon as possible. He could hardly abandon her here, though. Okay, so he'd drive her home. But after that he wouldn't see her again. This disaster didn't have to ruin their professional partnership. They could collaborate on their books by e-mail and fax. It would be a relief to escape the complications of emotional entanglement.
Dressed, he headed for the living room with a firm stride. Now that he'd made up his mind to treat everything that had happened this weekend like a surreal dream, he ought to feel at peace.
So why did he feel as if he'd been shot through the heart?
* * * * *
After a long time he emerged, having showered and changed. His clean scent, punctuated with traces of soap and shampoo, made Gillian's heart stutter. "That Luciano guy isn't a threat anymore, so you don't need to hide out." Paul said. "I guess I'd better drive you back to San Diego."
She stood up to face him, knowing that in the dark room he could see the red gleam in her eyes. "Please don't, not yet."
"Why the hell shouldn't I?" His folded arms mirrored the locked and barred gates of his mind.
She swallowed, groping for the words to explain her plan. It would work, if only he would agree to try. "I have an idea. I can prove my sincerity, if you'll let me."
"I can't imagine how, but go ahead and explain." He switched on a lamp and flung himself into the armchair.
"If you still don't believe I care for you—love you…" Her own words astonished her, but she realized she meant them. "After this, I won't bother you again. We can collaborate at a distance. You'll never have to see me."
Night Flight Page 7
