by Aubrey Rose
"Oh, really?"
"Sure!" Robb's voice was bright, and he almost chuckled aloud when the woman stifled a yawn. "Let's see. The first type that I'm looking for is a transformation of monosomy 7, that's the disorder most common to myeloid malignancies. But there's plenty more..."
Robb had ticked off twenty more chromosomal transformations by the time they reached the apartment, but by the look in the woman's eyes, she wasn't ready to give up yet. Good, then he would feed tonight. He didn't know why he was trying so hard to turn her off. Maybe to punish himself.
"Is this your place?" she asked.
"Top floor," Robb said, resigned to another empty night. In the elevator she pressed herself against him and he moved his hands over her body halfheartedly. The same pert breasts, the same tight tummy. His lips moved to her neck, and the steady beat of her pulse turned him on more than anything. He brushed his lips over her skin and breathed in, trying to smell the blood just underneath.
"It's Chloe," she said.
"Huh?"
"The perfume. It's Chloe."
"Oh. I thought you were telling me your name."
"No, silly, my name's Michelle!" She giggled, a high-pitched giggle. He kissed her then, to shut her up, and by the time the elevator doors opened she was all over him. They stumbled forward and he fell back onto the couch. She fell on top of him, whether because she was drunk or horny he didn't know. He kissed her hard and pretended passion.
"Oh, Chloe," he moaned.
"Michelle!" Another giggle. Right. Michelle. He grabbed her ass and grinned, pretending that he had meant the joke. Her lips tasted like the wine they'd had, slightly soured on her breath. Her face was caked in makeup—in the light of the foyer he could see just how much. But he was hungry. He closed his eyes while she kissed him and, unbidden, another face appeared in his mind. A face with dark hair and green eyes. The woman who could have been the girl he loved, only grown up. He moaned as the woman atop him ran her hands down between his thighs, thinking about someone else's hands on top of him. He bit down on the woman's neck, feeling the taste of blood on his tongue and imagining the taste of another girl. Liz. She was off-limits in real life, but in his mind, ah—
His attention had been elsewhere when they'd come in, and he hadn't noticed anything. So when he heard a sharp inhale of breath from the other room, his eyes snapped open.
Liz stood gaping in the lab just beyond the foyer, her face wide-eyed through the slit of the door. He froze, his lips still stained with blood, the smell still thick in his nostrils. All of his hunger was gone, but the hollow in his stomach remained, struck through with an icy fear.
She'd seen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Liz moved then, her arm jerking out instinctively in front of her. As though she could close the door between them by will. She knocked over the flask on the lab table with her hand and coughed as she righted the glassware. The woman on top of Robb turned her head, and Liz saw Robb swipe his thumb quickly over the smear of red on her skin.
"Who the hell is that?" the woman said.
Liz grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She had to get out of there.
"Nobody. Time for you to leave," Robb said to the woman, who looked confused as he herded her back into the elevator and pressed the button to the ground level.
"Hey!" she cried out, as Robb stepped back into the foyer. "What the hell!"
Liz had reached the doorway and was at the lab door by the time the elevator doors closed on the woman's indignant expression. She closed the lab door behind her, but Robb was already striding across the foyer toward her. She'd known that he was upset, but she didn't expect anything like what happened next.
The deadbolt clicked shut behind her just as Robb shoved her up against the door. Her purse fell to the floor, her phone and makeup clattering out onto the tile. One hand wrapped itself around her throat, and she gasped as he pressed her back, his face inches from hers. There was an anger in his eyes that she had never seen before. His dark irises seemed to flash with flickers of red as he leaned close, his lips raised in a snarl.
"What did you see?" His voice was throaty, gravelled.
"Nothing," she said.
"What did you see?!" The roar resonated across the foyer, and Liz struggled in vain to get out from under his grasp. His hand tightened around her neck. His arms were so strong! She tried to push back but she couldn't. It wasn't even as though he was pushing back more strongly. It was more like his limbs were iron, impossible to even think about bending.
"Nothing! Nothing! I can't—I can't breathe—" Liz choked out. "Don't—please—"
Robb let go, stepping back suddenly, and air rushed into her lungs. She coughed and slumped against the wall. The red wrath disappeared from his eyes, though his brows were still knitted together.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice straining to stay calm.
"I'm working." Liz's fear had been supplanted by anger. "Or do you not remember giving me a key to the lab?"
"Very funny," Robb said. His eyes darted toward the other door, then back to Liz's face. He looked her up and down.
She crossed her arms over the front of her sweatshirt, unwilling to let him get the upper hand again.
"What are you doing?"
"What am I doing? I should think that would be apparent," Robb said dryly. "Unless you're even more virginal than I originally thought."
"Excuse me?!" Liz said.
"I suppose now you're going to tell me that you're really here to do lab work."
"I am! I did!" Liz's face flushed hot, the skin on her face tightening. "Of course I'm here to do lab work!" she sputtered. "I just ran two dozen tests through the cytometer! What else would I be doing here?!"
Robb stepped forward, and Liz swallowed hard as his finger brushed back a tendril of her hair and lingered on her cheek. He leaned forward, and Liz could smell the sharp pungency of his cologne along with something else, a metallic scent.
"I should think that would be apparent," Robb whispered, drawing his finger down the side of her cheek and down to her neck. Despite her fear and anger, Liz couldn't help her body's response to the touch. Her skin tingled all along the path that he'd traced. But when his finger began to slip under the collar of her sweatshirt at her neck, she grabbed his hand in her fist.
"Stop," she said. "I'm not...I'm not going to do this."
"Do what?" Robb asked. He was still dangerously close, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body radiating outward. Desire was written all over his face. Liz licked her lips and Robb's eyes flickered down to watch her tongue. He frowned. "I'm not sure at all what to do with you."
"Nothing!" Liz pushed him back, and this time he relented, stepping away from her. Now that he wasn't pressing close against her body, the chill of the room made her shiver. "We're supposed to be professional, remember? And I don't appreciate you attacking me for absolutely no reason, you...you asshole!"
"Asshole? I seem to remember someone calling me that at some point."
"What kind of girls let you push them around like that? You think I'm like that?"
"No," Robb said, tilting his head and giving her a strange look. "You're not like any of them."
"Right, I'm too naive. Too virginal." Liz's lip trembled, but she bit down in anger. She rubbed her neck, although the ache was already fading away. "You're lucky I don't call the cops on you."
"I'm sorry," Robb said. "Are you alright?" He reached out a hand toward her neck and she slapped it away hard.
"Don't touch me!"
"I'm sorry," Robb said, but he was distracted in thought. He smoothed his hair back with one hand, a conflicted expression on his face.
"Right. Sure you are."
"Really. I'm very sorry. I let my instincts get the best of me. That hasn't happened in...in a while." Robb pursed his lips.
"Whatever, sure, I forgive you." Liz bent down and scooped her stuff back into her purse, not even feeling the least bit embarrassed
to find that a tampon had scuttled across the floor. She shoved it into her purse and stood back up, avoiding Robb's gaze.
"Liz?"
"I'll make sure to keep the door closed next time so you don't have to choke me out." She stepped forward but Robb moved in between her and the elevator, catching her by the arm. She pulled away, opening her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes left her speechless. It was an emotion that she had never expected to see on his face.
Fear.
"What did you see?" Robb asked softly. His voice had a low tremble to it. "Tell me exactly."
They stood facing each other. Liz lowered her arm. She had to keep herself from feeling sorry for him. He was the asshole, after all. But seeing him scared tore her apart inside. She wanted to run; she wanted to take him in her arms. Everything inside of her was whirling around and she had to get out.
"You were kissing." She cast her eyes down. "I didn't even see her face."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing."
Blood. There had been blood.
"Liz."
"Nothing, okay! You were getting a little rough, that's it, I don't know!" Liz threw up her hands. "I don't care what kind of BDSM you do with your girls or what kind of sex dungeon you have, and I won't tell anyone about anything I saw! Okay?"
Robb bit his lip. He seemed to be thinking something over and then he looked up, his shoulders set.
"Okay," he said. "I'll see you back at the lab."
Liz hurried into the elevator. Get out. Get out now. Her mind was screaming for her to leave, but a pain of sympathy made her want to stay. To comfort him. Spend the night with him.
Blood. He'd bitten her.
With a shudder, she suppressed the thought and punched the button for the lobby.
As the doors closed, she saw Robb sink down onto the couch in the foyer, his head in his hands.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Robb sat for a while, thinking. Had she seen? Had she really seen what he'd done, the blood, the bite? He hadn't made such an idiotic mistake since he was young.
And that mistake had turned out to be fatal.
It was two years after he'd been taken by the vampires. He'd escaped from their clan and found himself in a small English village in a rural forest area. Pretending to be a runaway boy, he'd stayed in the village church until a family had taken him in as charity.
They had been such kind people. The man worked as a cattle herder and his wife tailored and tended the garden. They had three children. Annabelle, Evan, and Thomas, and Evan was Robb's age. Robb had decided to stay with them and pretend to be normal for as long as he could. And it worked, for a time. But then he had made a mistake.
He'd been drinking blood from the cows at night. That's how he lived. Cow blood was thick, thicker than human blood, and sticky in his mouth. It didn't give him true satisfaction, either, but he would not kill again, not even if cow blood gave him headaches and still left him craving more.
Amid the herd of cattle, he'd slipped back to find a cow who was docile and calm. He patted her rump.
"Easy, girl," he said. He scratched behind the cow's ear and she flicked her tail. In the moonlight her eyes looked as dark as coal. Stupidly trusting, cows. They made perfect victims.
He found the artery with his fingertips, the pulse of blood beating through the skin. His stomach growled as he pressed his lips against the cow's leathery skin. His teeth slid out and then the cow lowed once and was still. There was something in the blood connection that calmed them, but getting close enough to bite was the hard part. He drank, some of the blood dripping out over his lower lip. The day had been long and hard, and he'd been craving this nourishment, as weak as it was compared to human blood.
The blood ran thick and he bit down too hard. The artery spurted against his mouth and filled it instantly. He choked and spit blood, coughing it out of his lungs, using one hand to steady himself on the cow's rolled neck. Blood spattered the ground and the side of the cow, and he noticed the other cows around him growing restless. The blood looked black in the dim moonlight, and Robb heard the crack of a twig.
He looked up and saw a man watching him.
The neighbor's eyes were wide as he watched Robb step away from the cow. Robb imagined how the man must see him: a monster covered in blood, maw red from the feed. He raised a hand and took one step forward, intending to greet him in a friendly way and hope that the man would listen to him.
That didn't happen. The man screamed, falling over himself as he scrambled to run away. Robb spun to see if the lantern would go on in his house. He did not want his family to know what a creature he was.
The window stayed dark, and Robb was grateful, even with the sudden sorrow that fell over him with the realization that he would have to leave now. The neighbor would tell the family. He must be gone by then. Vampires couldn't be killed easily, but they could be tortured, and the old superstitious faith of these villagers was nothing to be reckoned with.
Tears sprang to his eyes. Evan had been his friend, and the rest of the family had adopted him into their home as a son. Where would he go now? Would he ever be able to find another family that would take him in? And if he did, what then? Nothing would last. He would lose another family, then another, then another...
Robb found himself walking to the edge of the forest, just beyond the cattle grazing pasture. The treetops were like silver in the moonlight and the branches stirred softly, their rustling leaves the only sign that there was an invisible wind making its way through the forest. In the forest, though, everything looked dark. Robb shivered at the thought of going back to live in the forest. That was where vampires lived, yes, and he was one of them now. But he did not want to live like a monster anymore. He just wanted to be human. Looking back at the house he'd lived in for a short while, he swallowed. He should have left a note. He should have said goodbye. Evan wouldn't understand. And Annabelle would be scared of him, he knew she would. Not to mention the parents.
Robb slumped against a tree trunk, letting his body slide down to the ground. He'd been interrupted in the middle of feeding and he felt tired, so tired. He closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the bark. It was a nightmare, this whole thing. If he could close his eyes and open them again, the world might be different, and he would be able to stay here...
The smell of smoke woke him. He opened his eyes, knowing that something was wrong before he saw what it was. It was still dark in the forest, and the moon was setting over the tops of the trees, but there was a strange bright glow that Robb finally realized was fire. The house.
He leapt up to his feet and began to run back to the house. He'd reached the pasture fence and realized what the sound was. He'd thought it was the crackling of the fire, but there was a crowd gathered around the burning house. It was their shouting that he'd heard. Smoke billowed amid the flames, the black clouds blotting out the stars in the sky above. The crowd's words crystallized into form as Robb watched, his breath heavy and panting.
"Kill them! Heretics!"
"Witches! Witches who drink blood!"
"Kill them all!"
"No," Robb whispered in shock. The flames leapt up through the entire house, and now that Robb was closer he could see that there was a body just outside the front of the house. The flesh was charred to a black.
"No," Robb repeated. His ears filled with the sound of the crackling flames.
"No, no. Not them. Not them." He took another step forward and almost fell, so shaky were his legs. Then he saw that the body was not one body, but two. A large figure, the cattle herder most likely, but next to him lay another body, clutched in his arms so that Robb had not seen. A small body.
The body of a child.
Robb turned then and threw up, the contents of his stomach splashing the grass as he leaned over with eyes clenched shut, heaving until there was no breath left in him. The crackling of the flames reverberated in his ears, and he heaved again, again.
"No," h
e whispered, but there was nobody to hear him. He looked up once more at the house, the dark smoke boiling up through the roof where the flames licked and twisted. The image burned itself into his mind. He would never forget what he'd seen. Never.
He turned then and ran into the forest, his eyes blinded by tears. In his mind the flames leapt up and the body of the child still lay there on the ground, and he ran. He'd run for days before stopping, and had decided that from then on, he would not ever let his curse affect anyone. He would shield the rest of the world from his darkness.
And now, it had happened again. When Liz saw him, the blood still on his lip, something inside of him had snapped and he'd reacted. He opened and closed his hand. He'd scared her. He'd held her neck in his hand and the only thought in his mind had been how much he wanted to bend his head down and taste her.
The poor girl, so innocent and beautiful. He should never have touched her. He should never have let her into his lab.
But maybe she could be the one... the one he could trust...
No. There was no possible way. Already she was too much of a liability, and if she knew all of his secret, he could not protect her. His heart ached with the thought of losing her, but he couldn't take that kind of risk. He was already too selfish. He shouldn't have let her leave so easily. It was dangerous for the both of them.
