“Obviously,” she replied crisply. “I meant until now.”
I stopped laughing, my turn to raise an eyebrow. “So you believe I’m a vampire?”
She bit her lip for a moment, her eyebrows crinkled in thought. I understood then that she was most attractive when making any expression. I wanted to see her make them all. “I don’t have much choice. If you say you’re a vampire, you’re either a nutjob or a vampire. Either way, it’s probably better if I don’t provoke you.”
For the first time, she disappointed me, and my attention wandered after her first sentence. Eventually, everyone disappoints me, mortals usually much sooner than later, but for some odd reason, I had expected her to hold out longer. I shook my head, sighing. “No, Alicia. What you believe is about the only choice you have left right now. Don’t give that up on my account. Believe, or don’t, but only because you choose to.”
“You’re strange,” she replied almost immediately. A sheepish look crossed her face when her brain caught up with her mouth, and I laughed, partially to put her at ease, but mostly because her statement struck me as oddly funny.
“It’s not surprising or in any way offensive that you think so. Everything you happen to learn about me will probably run somewhere between strange and downright bizarre, so you should prepare yourself.” She accepted this without deliberation, and I liked that.
“You said you’re not sure. What more can I be if I’m not prey?” she asked quietly, as if her delivery might somehow convince me of the nonchalance she tried to project but certainly did not feel. Terrible play on words aside, she was dying to know the answer to that question, but even more horrified to mention the sticky subject, as if her eagerness to know the answer might somehow condemn her to die.
“For now, you’re someone I want to talk to,” I responded with a shrug. In truth, I still wanted to suck her dry, but other murky desires held me at bay. Alicia’s subconscious recognized the razor’s edge she straddled between life and death in that moment.
“Am I free to leave?” she asked quickly. I gave her a long, penetrating look, and she was immediately self-conscious.
“If that's what you want, go,” I answered at length, steeling myself against the possibility that she might take me up on that offer. It surprised me how much I wanted her to choose to stay.
She thought about it for a few minutes. Her first reaction was to bolt, and it was interesting to listen to her thoughts as she talked herself down. She was undeniably curious, but that alone was not enough to make her stay. She carefully considered what I wanted from her and the uncertainty inherent in the words “for now,” but instead of seeing them as warning that I might still succumb to my predatory nature, she made a conscious choice to accept them as a promise of something better to come.
Her unexpected shift from bitter skepticism to naive hope shot a twinge of guilt through my cheeks, but her simple pleasure that I had not sandwiched the word “just” between “you’re” and “someone” sent it packing.
In the end, it was a renewed understanding of her predicament that made up her mind. Stay or leave, her life was in danger, but she was more afraid of leaving. In staying, there was hope, no matter how slight.
It said something very sad about her life that spending time alone with a fickle and inconstant vampire was actually the lesser of two evils.
“Where do we start?” she asked after a fortifying breath.
“Let’s start with them,” I answered at length, hands gesturing at the bodies on the floor.
“Here?”
“It makes no difference to me.” She hesitated, and I knew why. “Alicia, you have nothing to fear from me. I won’t harm you.” I was startled to discover that I actually meant it.
“Is a vampire’s word any good these days?” she asked flippantly, the absurdity of her whole situation making her bold enough to free her sharp wit.
“Mine is, but even if it wasn't, you aren't any worse off than you were earlier,” I replied, unable to help being slightly offended by her question even as I realized that I had no right to be.
She thought about it for a moment, and I had to force myself not to read her thoughts. The ability to read minds often makes it more fun not to do so. Mind-reading, especially with mortals, can be painfully disappointing, and it is almost always better to assign motives instead of knowing them for certain. “Okay. I guess I’ll take you at your word, not because I trust you all that much, but because you're right: if you are lying, I’ll be dead, same as if I hadn’t met you at all.”
I found myself smiling like a buffoon. No doubt about it, I was falling, but I wasn’t sure if it was for her or what she possibly represented.
To understand that, you must understand that my last attempt to love a mortal had ended abysmally. For some reason, I was convinced that this situation was somehow different, that I was different. There was only one explainable reason for letting this foolish encounter continue: to redeem myself for Cassia.
Before he died, my father used to say that only a fool tries the same thing twice and expects a different result. I was being that fool, but I didn’t care. Now that I think about it, he might have been paraphrasing someone else...
“Fair enough,” I replied solemnly, nodding my head.
She looked at me oddly for a moment, confused again, but this time, I did not let her stew. “What is it?” I asked softly, my voice warm.
“How do we do this?” she whispered, staring at my chest as if it might suddenly reveal the secrets of life. No such luck. It was, after all, just my chest, revenant or no. God, how I wanted to throw my arms around her and rain kisses all over her perfect mortal skin! Instead, I settled for a stint of laughter that was less than satisfying.
As if the moment were not awkward enough, Gisele chose to call out to me. Though more than two thousand miles separated us, I heard her as if she were standing as close as Alicia. I had been feeling guilty for having been away from her for so long, and my laughter trailed off. Gisele is the female Ancient I mentioned earlier, one of the oldest remaining revenants, and I truly love her. She is a First-Generation revenant, and I will get into some of that later.
All in good time.
Where are you, my darling? she asked, concern darkening her beautiful mental voice. To this day, I still don’t know if my affinity for her vocal speech alters the way her mental voice sounds in my head, but it is the most soothingly beautiful sound I have ever heard. Like the wind through the trees in fall, like a lazy waterfall winding its way down moss-covered stones worn smooth over the centuries, like the utter silence of the night sky above the clouds. Like all of that and none of it, all at once, overwhelming yet barely audible, bringing me to stillness for fear of losing it in the din of imperfect, mortal noise.
Come to me. I miss you.
I was torn, but I really did not want to speak with her at that particular moment so I did something unprecedented: I ignored her. And she knew it. I felt my lips compressing, and when I looked at Alicia, I found her staring at me.
“Are you okay?” she asked, eyeing me as a mongoose does a cobra and still managing to keep one eye on her nearest exit. A window. Now that just wouldn't do.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, ashamed of my rudeness. “My mind wandered for a moment.”
“Ohh,” she said, and that was the end of it.
“You have my full attention from here on out.” While my attention was focused on Gisele, Alicia had moved to the couch, and I proved my words by turning toward her. She was perched on the arm, regarding me with what appeared to be interest, though it could have been simple curiosity. I wasn’t exactly thinking with my normal crystal clarity. Her arms rigid, hands fisted and seemingly glued to her lap, she appeared to be fighting with herself, wanting very badly to do things that she was determined not to allow herself to do. She was also irritated by some of the things she wanted to do.
“Alicia,” I said softly, wishing I could somehow put her at ease, but that is a
luxury most revenants never know (or care to know), and I guess I’m no exception. “Why don’t you make yourself as comfortable as you can, and then we’ll start with me answering as many of your questions as I can.”
No sooner had the words left my lips than her uncertainty evaporated. She stood, and her movements were stiff and jerky as she approached me, her body moving without permission from her mind. Though I wanted very much to touch her, I forced myself to be still as she neared. She stopped scant inches from me, eyes boring into mine, and I was momentarily dizzied by the desire to taste her blood. I beat the BloodHunger back, its nearness making me slightly uneasy.
If I close my eyes now, I can still smell her hair.
The next instant, her hand was on my face. The movement wasn’t all that fast, I was simply too distracted by her to see all of it. Her warm, soft hand covered the planes of my face in almost clinical examination, and I found it to be one of the more powerful experiences of my revenant life. Part of me wanted to hurl her away, fearing this intimacy with a mortal, and another part of me would have happily let her continue forever.
Her foray was short and efficient, her hand resting over my mouth for a few moments, and I had to use all of my revenant will to remain still. Finally, she pushed at my upper lip with her forefinger. I allowed it to lift, and after a cursory survey, she frowned.
“No fangs,” she said, disappointment clouding her voice.
“I have them,” I replied softly, afraid to speak above a whisper. Afraid to puncture this fragile bubble where her fear could not find a solid grip. If I hadn’t been so edgy, I might have extended my fangs, but instead, I whispered, “I only extend them when I feed and when I’m angry. We’ve already established that I’m not going to feed on you, and I don’t plan on getting angry with you, either.”
She accepted this with equanimity. “How long can you go between... meals?” she asked, moving her hand to my shoulder and down my arm in a lazy exploration that thrilled me to no end. Hell, it would have thrilled any man, mortal or revenant, to have such a gorgeous creature touching him, but for me, it went way beyond that, as if her touch had actually penetrated my skin.
I smiled at her wording. “I’ve never put it to the test, but I’d imagine quite some time.”
“Is it like that for all of you?” she asked, her eyes never leaving mine.
“What makes you think there are others?” I inquired hastily, debating briefly over how much I should reveal during this encounter. It was an obvious assumption that I was not the only vampire on the planet, and although it was pretty sound, it didn’t exactly qualify as “A=B -> B=C -> A=C” logic, so there was a point to be made.
And I do so love making points...
“I only assumed,” she returned, dropping her hand to her side. I felt a keen sense of loss as we separated. Slowly, I reached out, her eyes following my hand’s progress as if she was unsure whether to run away or stab it with something sharp, and as I grasped her hand, I could tell that she was struggling to do nothing.
“Don’t assume,” I began, releasing her hand so that she would bring those wonderful slate eyes back up to meet my gaze. “You happen to be right, in this case, but assumption is the mother of all fuckups.”
She laughed, a wonderfully genuine sound. “You stole that from a movie, but I can’t remember which one.”
“Why reinvent the wheel? And so you won’t go crazy trying to figure it out, Everett McGill said it in Under Siege 2, but to answer your question, no. Some revenants must feed each night to survive.”
“But not you,” she stated, correctly interpreting my unspoken words.
“Not me,” I agreed, inclining my head.
“Why? What determines how long you can go?”
I was almost mesmerized by the expression on her face, the unabashed curiosity laced with genuine interest, fear a forgotten shadow. Bringing myself back to the conversation, I realized that I had missed her first question, so I shrugged and absently answered, “Mostly age.” It wasn’t until the words cleared my lips that I realized how misleading they were.
“How old are you?” she asked anxiously, her voice suddenly infected with the same vibrant curiosity in her expression. Her ability, or rather her penchant, for rapidly switching between moods was a little disconcerting. Most of the women in my life possessed that same quality, and it baffled me every time. Some things, revenant Blood or not, remained the same.
“Not old at all, as far as revenants go. In my case, it has to do with the power of the Blood inside me.” I longed for her to touch me again, engaged once again in my heated internal debate over how much to reveal.
“So you’re a powerful vampire.”
“Yes.” I didn’t need to say how powerful, and my tone probably gave some indication. Since I was the only vampire she had ever known, more information would have been pointless as she lacked the proper context by which to gauge it.
When compared to a mortal, even the weakest revenant is a demigod, and although I could dispatch a platoon of weak revenants without straining myself, the differences among us would fail to register in mortal eyes. The lot of us are often only recognized for the same things: drinks blood, lives forever, sunburns really easily... For all intents and purposes, we are all exactly the same to someone on the outside, despite the fact that we each possess subtle and sublime characteristics that make us as different from one another as we are from the rest of the world. Sure, we have some similarities, but aren’t we all still guilty of focusing on those things that separate us from the rest of the world rather than on those things that unite us?
My goodness. Look at me write that as if I’m the poster child for peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, as if I have never lumped a group of people into one gigantic mother of a category (Think neon sign flashing “FOOD!”). Nothing like recognizing a pointless rant AFTER it has already tumbled from your li... err... fingers.
Alicia looked me up and down after my reply, as if my physical power might hold some clue of the power at my disposal. If only it were that simple. I find it fascinating how visually dependent most mortals are, and yet to a one, they manage not to believe their very eyes whenever it’s convenient. “How do you judge power?”
Her attempt to locate a point of reference to steer by signaled that a part of her, though probably unconscious, realized I wasn’t human, and that pleased me, so I answered without thinking, “Mostly by what can and can’t kill you.” Warnings went off in my head before the words finished sounding, and I braced myself for the inevitable question that would follow, something that would severely damage the openness of this conversation.
I was too stunned for words when it never came.
“I really want to ask what that is, but I’ll save that for a time when there is trust. If there’s ever a time.” I was so awed by her insight, by her thoughtfulness, that I felt tears sting the backs of my eyelids, my vision turning pink. There I was on the brink of bawling like a baby; if I hadn’t loved her up to that point, there was no longer any doubt.
“Mortal restraint is pretty much the same as military intelligence, so it always shocks the hell out of me when I stumble across it,” I whispered, my voice choked. She smiled, taking that for the supreme compliment it was.
“I’m going to change now, but I want to say something first.” I tipped my head in encouragement as she bit her lower lip again. “Thank you for my life. I know you didn’t save me out of the goodness of your heart, but your motives don’t really matter. I’m still alive, and I thank you for that.”
I was speechless; absolutely could not find the words to respond to such a genuine and heartfelt statement. My vision shifted once again to pink as I watched her go toward her bedroom. “Alicia,” I croaked before she disappeared through the doorway, and she turned slowly to look at me. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, so many thoughts to express where words were inadequate. “Yes, you are still alive. I won’t take that from you, and until whatever we’ve
started runs its course, I won’t allow anyone else to, either, but it’s best if you save your gratitude until you really understand what’s just happened to you.”
She thought about my words for a time, a somber reflection of possible outcomes. Her face remained impassive, but her eyes sang a different tune. Without reading her thoughts, I knew that the most horrific scenario she might possibly conjure up wouldn’t come close to being the worst that could happen. Mortal minds are just not equipped to understand true horror or real suffering, so it’s difficult for any of them to adequately envision either.
Although it consumed and defined her, all of the horror and suffering she had survived in her life was not even in the same league with what I could bring down on her. If it were a match, I would be the sun. Catching a glimpse of that terrible truth in my expression, she nodded and then disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
While she was changing, I wanted to feed, but I was worried about leaving her alone in the apartment for any length of time. I probed the edges of the BloodHunger to make sure it was easily manageable. If it was going to be anything more than a nuisance when our conversation resumed, I would have to feed. For the most part, I can control the BloodHunger, but it’s better to think of it as a wild animal that has been tamed by a skilled trainer: the wild is still there, buried beneath layers of training just waiting for the tiniest of missteps to set it free.
During my probing, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Lookout was twitching, not quite a seizure, but not conscious movement, either, so I decided to solve two problems with one action while Alicia was changing.
I picked up High Tech, and it was obvious he had been dead for a while. Throwing a body over each shoulder, I made a quick trip to a dumpster on the other side of town, depositing High Tech without ceremony and then draining Lookout dry. Being half-dead, his blood was cooling, thick and sluggish, like a soup that had been left overnight on the stove. It wasn’t champagne, but it would do.
Corrupting Alicia Page 4
