by Lori Devoti
“Yes,” I said, “under most circumstances that would be true, but you’ve both mentioned previously that your ability to read each others’ minds is limited. Due to the strange side effects of your blood linking ceremony, you’re only able to retrieve partial information from one another. And, since that’s the case, you’re each likely to interpret what you receive according to your own expectations – not unlike the human tendency to project personal fears and patterns onto others.”
Yvonne’s chin jutted into the air and her eyes narrowed. “I see no reason to be insulting, Doctor.” She arched a perfect eyebrow. “You can’t possibly compare my superior experience with anything about a – a food source. Their minds are less than a century old; they’re – barely formed. What could they possibly know about the art and craft of telepathy?” Her lavender eyes darkened. “How would you--?”
Feeling momentarily like an entrée, I shifted forward in my seat and raised a hand, palm out. “Yes, we’ve discussed this before and I understand your position. But my point is that you might be misunderstanding – misinterpreting – whatever you’re picking up from Falcon’s mind. Perhaps you should ask him what you wish to know?”
Yvonne shrugged gracefully. “You expect a man who has spent centuries lying to tell me the truth about anything?”
I turned my attention to the man in question. “Falcon, would you like to respond to Yvonne’s comment?”
He crossed his legs and tapped a finger on the arm of the chair. The corners of his lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. “Doctor, I have explained to my lovely mate thousands of times that I have no need of anyone but her luscious self. I can’t be held responsible for other women throwing themselves at me. I always do my very best to extricate myself without bruising feelings or giving false hope. I am utterly faithful.” He said the last four words with academy-award-winning innocence, using his mesmerizing vampire voice to attempt to sway me to his cause. Luckily, I’d built up my defenses. Having my own psychic abilities had finally begun to pay off.
“Ha!” Yvonne exploded, twisting her body in his direction. Her canines descended slightly, causing certain words to be slurred. “You wouldn’t know faithful if you snagged a fang on it. And stop trying to entrance the therapist! I only agreed to come to therapy if you didn’t try any of your tricks.” She scowled, giving him a steely gaze. “Where were you all day? You weren’t in your coffin when I awoke.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, staring at Yvonne. “I told you. I had to work late. The production . . .” He turned to me, his voice oozing charm, “We’re doing Phantom of the Opera, and I am privileged to have the lead role.” He gave a quick bow of his head then shifted his gaze back to his angry mate. “We rehearsed until dawn, and I retired to one of the theater’s extra coffins. Surely, you’d prefer to have me safely tucked away, rather than melting in the rays of the sun?”
Yvonne suddenly stood and glared at him, fists balled at her sides. “You weren’t at the theater. I teleported there immediately upon awakening and Jacques – who, unlike someone I could mention, would do anything for me – said he’d seen you leave with that long-fanged hussy, Marie, after the rehearsal. Do you deny it?”
Uh oh. The gloves are off, and the blood’s about to hit the fan.
“Yvonne, please.” I moved in front of her, making a valiant attempt to regain control of the session. I almost touched her arm before remembering she’d perceive it as a threatening gesture, which would be very bad since she was already in a dangerous mood. “Please sit. I know talking can be frustrating, but creating good communication is worth whatever discomfort we have to endure. You said you wanted to save your relationship.”
She snarled at Falcon, who slid his gaze to me and winked. Turning her narrowed eyes in my direction, she paused a few heartbeats before reclaiming her seat.
Note to self: Vampires have mood swings. Are there undead hormones? Bloodsucking PMS?
I sank into my chair and released the breath I’d been holding. “Falcon, would you care to respond to Yvonne’s concerns?”
Annoyance and guilt fought for supremacy on his face. He gave me only a couple of seconds to wonder which role he would assume and I wasn’t surprised by his choice. His expression became a mask of wounded indignation. He placed his palm against his unbeating heart. “I am hurt and shocked that you would doubt my word. I did, indeed, spend the day at the theater. Your . . . friend . . . Jacques was either mistaken, or he misled you on purpose.” He pressed his lips tightly together, grasping the arms of the chair so fiercely that he left indentations in the wood. “I know he wants you for himself, the foul, snaggle-fanged troll!”
A low growl burst from his throat as he leapt to his feet. “I have seen that poser put his hands on what is mine. How dare he overstep his bounds!” Falcon’s eyes transformed from their usual lovely copper to a deep red. His chest rose and fell with the unnatural breaths that only occur in vampires when they’re very aroused.
Shit, he’s got red eyes. I don’t suppose Visine would help? What the hell do I do now?
Yvonne was obviously enjoying his performance. She basked in Falcon’s emotional outburst, a wicked Cheshire cat smile blossoming on her face. Her own lavender irises were ringed with silver.
I cleared my throat and rose to my feet again. I took some deep breaths myself to slow my frantic heart rate – not that I could ever fool them anyway – and stared at the handsome demon looming over me, with his fangs fully descended. “Falcon, thank you so much for being courageous enough to share your feelings with us. We both felt the sincerity of your words.” I paused, realizing I’d inadvertently angled the pulsing vein in my neck closer to his mouth, and hoped I hadn’t made a fatal error. I heard the breathiness in my voice and knew they could sense my fear. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair and straightened his suit jacket. Slanting a quick glance at me before turning his red glare to his mate, he sat, frowning. “I believe I have expressed myself sufficiently for the moment. I’d really like to hear Yvonne’s reply to my statements.” He crossed his legs again and folded his manicured hands in his lap.
Holy shit. Welcome to “As The Coffin Turns.”
I cleared my throat and shifted my gaze to the very-pleased vampire on the couch. “Yvonne? Would you address Falcon’s concerns?”
The grin on her face could only be described as evil. “He’s merely trying to distract me from the fact that he’s been screwing every blood-whore in the theater company. While it might be true that Jacques lusts after me, Falcon knows I haven’t tasted that particular wine.” She narrowed her eyes and gazed at the love of her long life. “Not that I wouldn’t consider it under the right circumstances.”
Falcon lurched out of his chair, snarling, exposing all his teeth. Flashing crimson eyes dominated his pale face. He didn’t look nearly as handsome in his pissed-off vampire role. I didn’t think I’d ever seen fangs as long and sharp as his; they were truly lethal weapons.
I took an unconscious step backwards, bumping into my chair.
Jesus. I am so not trained for this.
Fighting my own increasing anxiety, I struggled to relax, and wracked my brain for a standard couples technique to ease the tension and move the session in a positive direction. I opted for a simple Gestalt process, and breathed deeply to calm the nervousness I was sure they could sense.
“Falcon, would you be willing to participate in a therapeutic exercise with Yvonne?” I focused on keeping my hands from trembling.
He sneered, Elvis style, the red of his eyes diminishing. “That depends on what it is.”
I switched my gaze to Yvonne, who watched me as if I were an interesting specimen or an unexpected snack. “Yvonne, are you willing to share?”
The question obviously surprised her because her eyebrows rose and she tilted her head to the side. “Share?” She paused for a few seconds, as if the concept was unfamiliar. I had no doubt
vampires had a different – bloody – definition for that word. She studied me from beneath her dark eyelashes. “Share what?”
“Just a few feelings and emotions. Let me set the stage, so to speak.” I moved quickly to an open area in the center of the room, pulled two chairs together, and arranged the seats to face each other.
Keeping my voice light, I stood behind the chairs, spreading my arms wide like a game show model. “Okay, if you’ll both come here and sit, we can begin.” I tapped the tops of the chairs with my fingers. Seconds passed like hours. The two of them were so utterly still it was impossible to feel their presence. If my eyes weren’t assuring me they were still staring at one another, I’d have believed I was alone in the room. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms rose and a low, snarling sound rent the air. I didn’t know which one of them was growling, but sensing that things were about to go south quickly, I moved between them – not the brightest choice, perhaps, but I was trying to keep the situation from escalating.
Great, Kismet. Nothing like annoying two hungry predators.
“Are we ready? Come on, you two. Humor the therapist. I know you both want to have a healthy relationship, or at least that’s what you told me.” I pointed at the empty chairs. I didn’t know what I’d do if they continued to growl at each other, but my stars must have been auspiciously aligned, or my karma sufficiently balanced, because they drifted to the new seating arrangement.
I’d placed the chairs close enough together that there were only a few inches of space between their knees. My heart pounded so forcefully in my chest I could actually hear it, so I knew the vampires, with their exceptional hearing, would pick up every syncopated beat. And, of course, there was that smelling-my-fear thing. I had a ludicrous thought about finding a deodorant that would be strong enough to fool the undead.
Eau De Corpse?
Oddly, the moment they sat facing each other, their auras calmed and their muscles relaxed. Yvonne stopped fisting her hands and Falcon’s fangs retracted.
Whew. I thought we were in for a blood bath.
I stood next to them, and spoke softly. “Yvonne, would you please look into Falcon’s eyes and tell him how you feel when you’re worried about his whereabouts?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, staring at his now-innocent-looking face. She rested a hand over her large breasts and turned her face to me. “Well, I do worry about him. We’ve been together for a very long time. No matter what else happens, we’re still blood-linked.”
“Yvonne, tell him directly.”
“What for?” She pouted. “He heard me well enough.”
“He certainly did.” I smiled at her. “But this exercise is most effective if you allow yourselves to create intimacy – to build healthy communication. So, please. Look into his eyes and tell him how it feels to worry about him.”
She sighed dramatically and met his eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll do something stupid and someone will put a stake through that unfaithful heart of yours. Then where would I be? I’d be linked for eternity to a pile of ash.”
Falcon frowned and slid his gaze to me. “This is the warm-fuzzy exercise? Is it my turn yet?”
Crap.
“One moment, Falcon. Yvonne, see if you can go deeper into your emotions. Allow yourself to get in touch with the feelings you had when you first met Falcon. What was that like?”
A dreamy expression softened her face and she smiled. “Ah, yes. I remember it well. He was such a beautiful male specimen . . .”
“Tell him, Yvonne.”
She connected with Falcon’s eyes and leaned forward. “I’d gone to a theater performance with my sire and was dazzled by your small role in the play. I knew right then I had to have you. It was truly lust at first sight. And you were just as taken with me; I could sense it. Despite being human, you were a wonderful lover.”
Falcon grinned, “Were?”
She batted her eyelashes. “Are.”
Okay. This is good. About damn time.
“Falcon, tell Yvonne what was it like for you when you met her.”
He leaned toward her. “I came off the stage that night and saw the most gorgeous female I’d ever laid eyes on. Whatever you had, I wanted some of it. Discovering you were a vampire was immortal icing on a delicious cake, to use human terms. I talked you into bringing me over, blood linking with me, and the rest is history. I’ll never leave you. And I’ll never betray you.”
And the Oscar goes to . . .
They sat, smiling at each other, then Yvonne reached across and smoothed her hand down Falcon’s cheek. “You swear you aren’t boinking humans and drinking them dry?”
Feigning shock, he raised his hands, as if to ward off her words. He stuttered. “I . . . I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing. I am completely faithful to you, and I’d never get carried away enough to kill a meal. What would make you even ask?”
The evil grin was back. Yvonne reached out, snake fast, and grabbed Falcon’s wrists, holding them in her iron grip. I wasn’t sure exactly how much older than Falcon she was, but it was a significant number of years, and vampires get stronger with age. His charming mask slipped, and fear shadowed his face.
She licked her lips, pulling him close. “You’re just a cheating, lying peacock, addicted to the fluids of sluts, harlots and whores.”
Falcon shook his head vigorously, his frown lines on his forehead so deep his eyebrows almost touched. “No, no, you’re wrong. I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what you heard, but I’m innocent. I’m faithful to you. I haven’t killed anyone in . . . well, at least twenty, er, ten years. I have plenty of blood donors. You know that because you arranged them yourself.”
Things were definitely getting out of hand. I circled them, speaking loudly but calmly, saying everything I could think of to bring Yvonne back to her senses – such as they were – but I might as well have been invisible for all the notice they paid me.
This is bad. This is really bad. I’m not charging enough for this shit.
Yvonne smiled, then moving faster than I could see, stuck her fangs savagely into Falcon’s neck. She sucked for a few seconds, then lifted her mouth, licking her lips again. But she’d created such a vacuum with her sucking that, when she removed her mouth, blood arced from the ravaged holes, spraying all three of us, as well as the furniture. She repeated the suck-and-lick pattern a couple more times– a bloodsucking praying mantis feasting on her bug, saturating everything with the bright red liquid. He screamed, struggling to free himself from her rigid embrace. The two of them tipped backwards in the chair, and landed on the rug with a heavy thud. The fall disengaged her fangs from his neck, but the wounds continued to flow freely.
I gasped and looked down at the blood splattered on my light blue suit. In the time it took me to shift my attention to my soiled attire, Yvonne had wrestled Falcon flat onto his back and was sitting on his chest, her purple dress hiked up around her hips, restraining his arms over his head. Red glistened everywhere.
My mind spun. We’d never covered anything like this in grad school. I knew I should do something, but my brain had put out the “do not disturb” sign and gone on sabbatical. I considered kneeling down next to them, and launching into another therapy spiel, but there was so much flailing and yelling going on, my words would’ve been lost in the maelstrom. And, even though Devereux had promised to execute any vampire who harmed me, I knew better than to trust the self-control of frenzied blood drinkers.
“Your blood tastes of fear, my well-endowed cocksman.” Yvonne grinned maniacally. “And I know why.”
Falcon twisted and squirmed beneath her, making a completely futile effort to escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sounded terrified – even more frightened than the situation seemed to call for. What was I missing?
“Yvonne! Falcon!,” I bleated uselessly, inching closer.
He finally freed one hand, and pushed at her shoulder, causing her to lose her balance. She retaliated
by lunging at him, wrapping her fingers around his neck, and attempting to choke him. He put up a good fight, and the two of them started rolling across the floor. Directly into my legs.
“Shit!” I cried as I went down hard on my ass, accompanied by the sound of my skirt ripping. I barely managed to shift my legs sideways to avoid being trampled. I speed-crawled toward my desk and made it as far as the end of the couch before noticing Falcon and Yvonne were on their feet again, lumbering toward my hiding place. I poked my head from behind the sofa and watched the blood-covered combatants grappling at the other end.
Adrenaline surged through my body, preparing me for fight or flight, as I listened to the snarls and barking sounds emanating from their throats. These vampires were insane.
Treating humans crazies wasn’t bad enough. No, I had to put out the welcome mat for the demented children of the night.
Yvonne screamed at him as they fought. “I found your stash of dead women, my lying, fornicating consort. Either you’re incredibly lazy, profoundly stupid or you have a true-death wish, because you’ve been hiding your kills in the same place for the last century. I’m betting on all of the above. You knew I’d discovered the secret room underneath the dungeon when I confronted you with the remains of your mother’s body. Not that I blamed you for offing the cow the moment you became a vampire. She had sold you to that sadistic pedophile, after all. Not exactly ‘Mother of the Year’ material. But you could at least have buried your leftovers.”
Falcon managed to momentarily break free, falling backwards onto the couch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! There are no dead women. You’re delusional. Mad as a hatter. I’ve never been anything but faithful and true. You don’t deserve me.”
