The Vampire Who Loved Me

by Theresa Meyers

  The receptionist didn’t look the slightest bit fazed that two vampires just popped into existence in front of her desk. Guess it happened enough it was simply normal.

  “This is Dr. Chamberlin. She’s to be given black level access to all laboratories and materials.”

  The receptionist nodded, tucking her sweep of smooth dark hair behind her ear. “Trejan Dionotte has already put us on alert. Please, will you follow me?”

  She came out from behind her desk and Beck took two steps to follow her before she realized Achilles hadn’t moved.

  “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got other duties to attend to. If you aren’t successful, the council will probably call for an all-out war against the mortals holding the vaccine.”

  Beck stiffened. “It’s probably better if you don’t come. I wouldn’t want you to be exposed.” Even if she would have appreciated the support of having him there, the lab was going to be off-limits to all vampires until she knew precisely what she was dealing with in Margo’s version of the vaccine.

  She reached out to him, to tell him to cross his fingers for her, and found herself still blocked. Her heart twinged. She’d come to rely too heavily on the special bond between them and she suddenly realized how hard it was going to be when it was gone.

  He nodded, his mouth forming a grim line. “Good luck, Doc.” And just like that, he disappeared.

  The receptionist stared back, waiting, and Beck trotted to catch up to her. “Dr. Shepperd is waiting for you in the lab. Ask him for anything you require and he’ll see that it’s obtained for you immediately, Dr. Chamberlin.”

  She swung open the metal doors to reveal a tall man with a warm smile and wire-rimmed glasses. His dark hair was military short and he wore a spotless white lab coat.

  Beck smiled at the receptionist as she turned to leave. “Thank you.”

  The vampire held out his hand. “Dr. Alastair Shepperd, at your service.” His British accent made Beck smile a little as he executed a little bow from the waist in a way that was centuries out of date.

  “I’m guessing you aren’t originally from the Seattle area.”

  He nodded, returning her smile. “But I daresay I’ve been here far longer than you, if the stories are true.” He began to walk down the carpeted hallway toward a set of white double doors at the far end. Translucent walls of back-lit frosted glass glowed softly, illuminating the windowless space.

  “Just how long?” Beck asked curiously. He looked about forty, but vampires never showed their age. Except for Vane right up until the end. Beck shivered in the climate-controlled space. She had to find the cure. Had to. Nothing must happen to Achilles. She’d work tirelessly, night and day to find a cure.

  Sheppard smiled. “Two hundred and thirty-six years, give or take a month or two. I was a surgeon for the redcoats on the Eastern seaboard. I spent some time as an early explorer and eventually made my way to the west coast. I can still tell you this country is nothing like I’ve ever seen.”

  “In that case, you might want to make sure you don’t come into the lab with me. I’ve seen this vaccine reduce a far older vampire than you to dust in less than two minutes.”

  His mouth dropped open a little. “I say,” he breathed.

  “That’s one reason I’ll need a sealed lab and strict access restrictions for all personnel.”

  They pushed through the double doors and the hallway became a stark, sterile, ubiquitously white clean room. Dr. Shepperd keyed a code into the security pad. “I’m clearing the code to this lab for your exclusive use. Please select any sequence you wish. If you’ll compose a list of items you’ll require, I shall have them delivered to you within the hour.”

  “Can I phase within the lab?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Of course you may. I wasn’t given an indication of your ability levels. Should you require anything, please ring me.” He handed her a business card with his name and an extension printed on it. “Simply dial nine on the phone inside the lab and then my extension and it will ring me directly.”

  Beck took the card and slipped it into her pants pocket. “Thanks. I’d better get to work.” She turned to the keypad and entered the same code as the one she’d had at Genet-X. The door swished open and Beck stepped inside. The lab was twice as nice as anything she’d had at Genet-X and outfitted to the hilt.

  She phased the vial of Vanquish she’d taken from Margo’s desk into her hand and set to work. “Let’s see exactly what Eva’s ichor did to you,” she murmured as she slipped on a pair of gloves, her goggles and a lab coat, then unstoppered the bottle. She used a pipette to withdraw a small amount of the vaccine and smear it on a glass slide.

  Underneath the microscope, the vampiriophages were still present. Beck upped the magnification of the electron microscope and saw a subtle difference. Instead of only six strands of long tails, there were eight, two far shorter than the others, like little fangs.

  All afternoon Beck examined and peeled apart the vaccine, looking at the PCR substitution Margo had performed. “You did a good job for a dead woman,” she said to no one in particular. Per her request, no one had entered the lab while she’d been there. The seclusion was a both a blessing and a curse as every moment she spent working on the antidote was a minute closer to her becoming mortal again.

  The work dragged on for hours. A painful twisting sensation bit into her midsection and Beck realized she hadn’t eaten in far too long. The thought of drinking a pint of blood didn’t seem appealing in the slightest, so instead she phased herself a pepperoni pizza while she waited for the centrifuge to finish separating the DNA from the sample of vaccine.

  Usually it was a huge no-no to eat in a lab. Too many things could easily contaminate both the food and the samples. But since she was alone, Beck refused to worry about it. She sucked down four slices of pizza before she realized that the pinching, twisting sensation was only growing worse rather than going away.

  “Bet nothing but blood will do it,” she muttered under her breath as she phased away the rest of the pizza and replaced it with a glass filled with a Bloody Mary, heavy on the blood. She shuddered and grasped the glass. “Bottoms up, Doc.”

  Holding her nose with one hand, she chugged the contents of the glass. “Ugh. Revolting.”

  The pain speared red hot through her middle and Beck gasped at the sensation, dropping the dirty glass to the floor. It shattered in a spray of shards.

  The centrifuge chimed, indicating her samples were ready to review. Beck scraped herself together and slogged over to the machine, groaning against the ache that was now taking over her joints. A throb behind her eyes made her squint in the bright light of the lab.

  Why was she hurting so badly? She’d eaten, hadn’t she?

  That’s when the thought struck her so soundly it made her numb from head to toe. Dear God. This wasn’t her pain.

  Achilles.

  Beck didn’t think about it. She just put her mind out and tried to reach him. But the block was still firmly in place. Wherever he was, he didn’t want her to reach him.

  “I don’t think so, tough guy.” Beck stalked out of the lab double time, all the while yelling for Achilles with her mind.

  Dr. Shepperd bolted out of adjoining door in the hallway and nearly ran her over. “Are you all right?”

  “I need to see Achilles. Now.”

  Dr. Shepperd took one look at her and visibly blanched. “Yes. Of course. Right away.”

  He grasped her shoulder and transported her to a hallway filled with doors.

  “This is our intensive care unit. He collapsed about fifteen minutes ago.” Shepperd twisted the doorknob and opened the pale wooden door.

  Achilles lay in a hospital bed, his face a waxen image of his former self. She stepped to his side.

  “Oh, my God.” Her hand shook as she brushed it along the edge of his hairline and his square jaw. “What’s happening to you?”

  He crack
ed open his eyes and attempted a weak smile. “Dying.”

  All the strength left her body in a rush leaving her deflated like a used plasma bag. “But you weren’t even exposed.”

  “No. But you were. I told you there was a dark side to imprinting. We share everything now, Rebecca. Power and pain. Life and death.

  You were exposed while working in the lab, so now I’m reacting to it just as if I’d been right there with you. You’re returning to your mortal state bit by bit.”

  “No! That’s not possible. You would have told me if there was a risk.”

  His eyes softened, vulnerable and sad.

  Beck muttered a few choice curse words under her breath. Fear making her body hot then cold. “How am I supposed to fight something I don’t even understand?”

  He brushed his fingertips over the curve of her face, his thumb tracing across her cheek in a tender way that made her chest ache with longing. “Use what you know. You’re brilliant, Rebecca. If anyone can find the answer, I know it’s you.”

  “But I need more time.”

  He closed his eyes, held them shut for a second, then gazed deeply into her face. “Time is one thing vampires can’t control.”

  Chapter 18

  Inside Achilles was a seething, roiling mass of agitation, regret and frustration. He hated being useless. He’d known that there’d be every chance that the imprint would impose its darkness over him once more, and yet for Rebecca he’d been willing to risk it.

  Why? Why did this one female completely flip him end for end? Yes, she was Ione reborn, but it was more than that. Lying in the hospital bed, even with the most excellent of care, didn’t help matters. It gave him an annoyingly large amount of time to reflect.

  His destiny was to be a halfling. Hers to be mortal. Period. Imprint or not.

  The nurse sampled his ichor once more, drawing a syringe of the black liquid from his veins. She didn’t bother to cover the spot with a cotton ball or bandage. Vampires healed so quickly it would have been a useless gesture.

  But Achilles knew he wasn’t an average vampire anymore. Being a halfling was something different. Being imprinted, something different again. The only chance he and Rebecca both had of staying sane, because neither of them would ever be whole, was for her to return to her mortal state and he to his halfling existence. At least then if he had to live as a halfling, he could serve the clan and his kind.

  That was if he could. If the imprint worked the way the doctors had been whispering about in the hall, he didn’t have much time to worry about it. His body was already aging. That didn’t happen to healthy vampires. That hadn’t happened the first time, when Ione had died.

  Rebecca had already been at work a week on the vaccine sample and tried a half dozen substitutions and manipulations of the virus. She looked as worn out as he felt. Which was likely true. She hadn’t said anything each night when she’d come to sit with him for an hour or two, but he could see the pain and suffering etched into the smoothness of her skin, and the dark smudges growing beneath her eyes. The imprint was taking its toll on her, as well. They were both suffering.

  The nurse left and flipped on the television as she exited his room. He’d been watching the mortal news to see how close Eris and her group of stooges were to getting Vanquish manufactured and released.

  Every day he’d watched. Every day he’d breathed a sigh of relief that Rebecca had one more day to create the antidote they needed.

  But today it looked as if their luck had run out.

  “Ms. Diva, you said that your organization has found a cure for the vampirism virus?” the reporter sitting across from Eris prompted.

  Gods, she didn’t even bother to disguise her identity for any that knew it. She was using Diva—Latin for goddess—as a last name. He could only imagine the panic this would incite among vampires, and the mob mentality it would stir up among mortals. She must be gorging on the chaos.

  “That’s right, Jane.” The camera shifted in for a close-up that revealed a glimmer of utter delight in the depths of Eris’s eyes. “Not only has the Foundation for the Greater Good undertaken the financing for research to produce the vaccine, but we’ve gone a step further. It’ll be available starting tomorrow.”

  Achilles just about fell out of his hospital bed. Tomorrow?

  He groaned. His chest constricted, ribs nearly cracking from the viselike sensation. He closed his eyes hoping it would all just go the hell away.

  “You’re not sounding so good.” Rebecca’s voice rippled through him, bringing awareness to his ragged senses. The spicy scent of her skin and hair, the sweetness of the lip balm she always wore, the heat of her beside his bed, her hand, so soft, covering his.

  Achilles opened his eyes. “Hey, Doc. How goes the battle?”

  She nibbled at her lip, making him wish she’d bend down just a bit more so he could kiss her. He could use a kiss about now.

  Beck’s brow lifted. “Is that so?” She bent down and gave him a sweet lingering kiss.

  Damn. He must be slipping. He’d been doing so well at blocking her. His strength was ebbing, gradually, completely and he was doing everything he could from having it impact her.

  “Eris was on the evening news hailing the wonders of Vanquish and its availability tomorrow.”

  Rebecca sucked in a startled breath. “I’m so close, so close. I just need a little more time.”

  “Sorry, sweetling, like I said—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Vampires can’t control time.” She sighed as she twisted the end of an auburn curl around her fingers.

  “All the better reason you should be at the lab rather than wasting your time sitting here.”

  Anger flared in her eyes. “I’m not wasting my time with you.”

  “Yes, but you being here isn’t helping anyone, is it?”

  “Why do you keep trying to block me, to shut me out?”

  Achilles turned his head away from her looking toward the translucent glass wall. “You know.”

  “It’s because I’m still planning on returning to being mortal, isn’t it?”

  He turned back, taking in the sweet curve of her cheek, the dark fringe of her lashes around her too bright eyes and realized with a hitch in his gut that she was about to cry.

  “Don’t cry, sweetling.” He reached out to brush away the tear already tracking a wet trail down her cheek.

  She swatted his hand away, her face crumpling. “You don’t get it, do you? I love you. I don’t understand why we can’t remain together even if I’m human and you’re still a vampire.”

  Achilles sighed soul deep. He wished to the gods that there were easy answers. “You don’t love me, sweetling. That’s just the imprint talking. You’ll go back to being mortal. You’ll be free of me, and hopefully free of this imprint. And you’ll have a normal life.”

  She shook her head, curls bouncing with the movement. “No,” she said simply, then worried the edge of her lip with her teeth. She glanced at the ceiling and sniffed, then harshly wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I’ll never be free of you. Being mortal isn’t the issue here and you know it. You’re just afraid.”

  “Spartan warriors aren’t afraid.” It was a good try, but his bravado sounded false even to his own ears.

  “News flash. You’re not a Spartan. You’re a vampire in the twenty-first century. You’re afraid of love. I get that. Love sometimes opens you up to a lot of hurt.”

  Achilles grumbled. Gods. Did she have to do this now, when he was too weak to resist her, when he knew by all rights he should let her go? “That’s the imprint talking.” His words came out harsher than he intended.

  “No, dammit, it’s not!” She fisted her hands by her side. “Look. I’ve never been the kind to fall in love. Lust, yes. But never love. I know—” she thumped herself in the chest with her balled up little knuckles “—I know I love you. I just don’t want to be a vampire. It’s not only an imprint anymore. And if you’re too pigheaded to admit you
love me, too, then that’s not something I can overcome with test tubes and scientific method.”

  Achilles turned away, unable to bear the hurt in her eyes any longer. The imprint was strong, making her feel things, think things, she never would have otherwise. Returning to her mortal form was for her own good. He’d always known that.

  Beck returned to the lab and stalked back and forth across the room, furious at herself and him. Her heart thumped and ached deep in her chest. Beck stopped, patting herself down and held her hand over her sternum. Good grief. She had a heartbeat! When had that happened?

  She stumbled to the nearest lab stool and collapsed on it. There had always been the chance that working with Vanquish would turn her back into her mortal form. She’d fully expected that repercussion. But if she had a heartbeat, then how in the world had she transported back to the lab?

  Beck held her hand out in front of her and focused on phasing a cup of hot Earl Grey tea into her hand. She felt the weight and heat of the mug in her fingers before she opened her eyes. She still had her vampire powers! Or were they hers?

  Perhaps, just as she’d predicted, the imprint was still in place and as strong as ever. Perhaps she was just accessing Achilles’s vampire powers. The difference was—she knew how to use them, when as a mortal, she hadn’t.

  Beck gasped, the cup falling to the floor, as her hands went to cover her mouth. The hot tea splashed across the floor as the mug bounced and rolled.

  She was still connected to Achilles. If she was in the midst of the transition, then one of two things was happening right now. Either he was transitioning, just as she was and was once more a whole vampire, or he was nearly dead.

  Beck shot to her feet, grabbed the latest version of the antidote from the rack where it had been resting along with a new syringe and focused with all her might to take her back to Achilles’s side.

  She held the antidote tightly in her hand. Achilles lay still, unmoving, his eyes shut. “Achilles?” she whispered. She touched him, then quickly drew her fingers back at the shock of his cool skin. Too cold. Her heart beat faster, harder than it ever had before. His hold on existence was tenuous at best. The spark she’d felt by touching him was now nothing more than a faint friction.