"It's as if you've matured by fifteen or twenty years," her mother said. "You'll want to do things . . . well, things you haven't done yet."
If she could have, Dell would have blushed. Her mother had never openly talked about sexual things before. She knew she was talking about virginity and having sex, and she had assumed, correctly, that her daughter had not yet had intercourse. Assumed, or she'd read her mind.
"I have to ask something, Mom."
"Anything, sweetheart."
"Can I become pregnant? I guess I can, since you did even before you changed, but I need to know these things and how they work. How they'll work for me."
"Yes, you can have a baby. Your body works just as it did before. If you feed, you'll remain healthy. So you can conceive and have children, but . . ."
"But I shouldn't mess around with mortals, I know, Mentor told me."
"It's just that . . ." Her mother seemed at a loss for words. She finally said, "It's just that if you conceive with a human male, the child will be . . . different."
"Will it live?"
"Oh, yes, absolutely it will live. The fetus of a vampire mother is always strong and vigorous. But if the father is a mortal, it won't be vampire. But . . . it won't be human either."
"I don't understand. That makes no sense to me.”
“We have a word for it. The child of a mixed union is called a dhampir."
"What does it mean?"
"Human, with supernatural abilities, but not with the need for blood that we have. Truly alive, truly mortal, but with more strength, better vision, keener hearing, enhanced stamina, quickness, and some other abilities I just don't know about. I don't know any dhampirs. Some of the Predators do away with them."
"They kill them?"
"Oh, yes. They're a little dangerous to keep around."
"But what's wrong with being a . . . a super-advanced human? It's the best of both species, isn't it? Why haven't we all mated that way?"
"Because there's a drawback."
"Oh."
"The mixed-blood child sometimes grows into a . . . a . . . killer."
"A killer?"
"A hunter. A killer of vampires."
"But why?"
"Because it knows both worlds, it's a product of both, it feels and knows everything we know and feel. The mixed child comes to despise the parent who is the immortal, and often tries to destroy him. Or her."
"Jesus. Is that why Mentor warned me about having a mortal boyfriend?"
"I'm sure that's part of it. He left the rest to me. The other part, as you know, is the finite life of humans. The pain of separation when death takes them from us is awful. The aging they undergo, while you stay the same age, at least to the visible eye. It's a terrible thing, Dell, a horrible agony if you love someone. I wouldn't want you to have to go through it. That's why I'm telling you everything I know about it, and I'm asking you to be careful in your choices."
So here she was, sitting in a darkened theater with just the person her mother told her to shy away from, and she wanted to kiss him, and she wanted to hold him, and she wanted . . .
She stopped her train of thought and directed it to the screen. She could control herself. She knew she could. She had to. She simply couldn't ravish Ryan like a succubus, no matter if it produced a child or not. She couldn't live in a wanton manner, taking whatever her desires dictated, taking chances on unforeseen outcomes. She had not lost her virginity before now for these same reasons.
On the other hand, she'd never felt this serious about anyone before either.
I knew it wouldn't be easy, she thought, reaching to her shoulder to take his hand. Feeling his warm flesh beneath her cool fingers, she wondered if it would be impossible to keep her distance. The hormones, or whatever it was that caused her to want to find a mate, seemed to be operating at full throttle. At this point, the urge to love someone and have him love her back was stronger by far than the ever present hunger for blood. Because he was human, she wanted him for her lover. No, she thought, that wasn't right. She wanted him because he was Ryan. And because she was vampire, she knew she should never have him.
~*~
Ryan came away from kissing Dell with something in his brain sparking like moths striking against a hot light bulb. He thought: Wow! He said, "Uh . . ." and then she flung her hands around his neck and kissed him again. He nearly fell right over a precipice of reason into a valley of deep desire.
They sat in his car in front of her house. Outside a night bird called in a tree at the edge of her yard. He was only going to kiss her gently, a good-bye and thank-you kiss, but it had turned into something hot and unworldly. He felt zany and bedazzled, as if he were in a fairy tale and was bowled over with a spell.
When she released him, he sat back panting, feeling startled and aroused.
"I don't think I've ever been kissed like that before," he said.
She remained silent, but she touched his cheek with her fingertips before letting herself out of the car. He watched her run up to her front door.
He put the car into drive and drove slowly away. Sweat had broken out on his brow and he now wiped it away. "Whew," he said, reaching for the air conditioner control to see if it was working.
His mind was made up. Lori was a kisser, all right, but compared to Dell she was a rank amateur. Dell made him forget where he was and what the hell he was doing. He didn't think something like that could happen and was so amazed he nearly ran a stoplight before noticing the light was red and slamming on the brakes. He got home in a shaky state and let himself into a dark house. His parents were already in bed asleep. It was a good thing, he thought, since if they could see his face they'd know something had happened. He knew of no way to explain it. A kiss that knocked him for a loop. A kiss that seemed to sear into him and seal him tight to her.
I think I'm losing my mind, he thought, going for the kitchen and a glass of milk.
He wondered if she'd go out with him the next weekend. And the next. And every weekend of his life
“You’re a crazy person,” he muttered, putting the empty milk glass in the sink. “Ryan, you’ve just flipped out, man.”
On the way to his room he realized it was true what he'd told himself. He'd flipped out. He was way over the moon. Dell Cambian was a magician, and, just like the song said, she'd put a spell on him.
22
Alan drove directly to Bette's house, so worried that he drove too fast and was stopped for speeding just inside Dallas city limits. Frustrated with the delay of signing for the ticket, he arrived at Bette's house frazzled as a half-dead mouse who had been toyed with for hours by a particularly energetic cat.
Bette, to his relief, met him at the door looking serene and beautiful. She had donned a hip-hugging, ankle-length, traditional Japanese gown. It was turquoise satin, embroidered all over with tiny black flying birds. He had seen her in traditional dress only once before when he'd arrived to take her to dinner. It always took him aback to remember that though she was thoroughly American, she upheld the past traditions of her forebears.
"You look a fright," she said, smiling and leading him inside. "Would you like some tea?"
It was as if she knew he was coming back. There was a Victorian rose hand-painted tray on the coffee table holding two cups and saucers, sugar, creamer, and a bamboo-handled teapot.
"How did you know I was coming back right away?" He leaned over to touch the teapot and found it still warm. How could she have possibly known?
"Sit down, Alan. I have something to tell you."
“I think you do." He sat on the sofa while she poured tea, dropped two small cubes of sugar into his cup, stirred, and handed it over. "And I have something to tell you, too."
"You first, if you like," she said.
"I went to Upton and told him about the vampire. He went crazy. He said the one I'd seen would track me down, and finally, it would find him. He really just freaked. When I left, he was packing and preparing to go away somewhere t
o hide. He told me to do the same thing."
Through the recital Alan saw that Bette nodded her head, sipped her tea, and didn't seem at all tense. What did he have to do, spell it out? That's what he'd do then.
"Bette, they might come for us."
"Now I'll tell you my news," she said, putting down the teacup. "They've already come for us. We just didn't understand what was going on."
"What do you mean?"
"You know the old man who showed up here a couple of times? And the last time my memories about the blood bank seemed to elude me when you tried to discuss it?"
"Yes."
"Well, that man, the old man, he's sort of like a leader. He's one of the most powerful ones. He came again not long after you left."
Alan inched forward on the sofa's edge. He wanted to leap up and stomp around, do something physical. He felt wound as tight as a cheap alarm clock.
"What did he do?"
"He invaded my mind again and tried to take away all my memories. Even as he was doing it, I caught the impression that he was going to find you next and do the same thing. I can't tell you how I knew it, but I did. When I woke, he was gone, and I knew something was terribly wrong, although I didn't remember yet that he'd been here. I went upstairs to pray."
Alan knew about her altar and the faith she put in her religion. He nodded, thinking her response was a normal reaction to her victimization.
"Alan? I haven't told you everything about myself. I thought you'd laugh or ridicule me."
"I'd never do that."
She shook her head. "You might have. You weren't raised my way and you don't know my faith. You also don't know that I have had . . . abilities . . . since I was a child."
"Abilities?"
"Maybe you might call them 'powers.' I can get in touch with other people, a sort of telepathy. I've even done it with you sometimes when you've been down in Houston and hadn't called for a while."
"I never knew that."
"No, of course, you didn't. I just sent a subtle message that you should feel as if you needed to call me, get in touch. I could have just picked up the phone and called you, but then that's not the same, is it?"
He stared at her. He wasn't sure exactly what she was telling him. She could do what? Manipulate people by some kind of mind control?
"Yes," she said, smiling slyly. "I can manipulate people when I want to."
Alan sat back abruptly. "How'd you do that?"
"Read your mind?" She laughed. "Look, our reality isn't as it seems. There's work going on in physics that astounds the physicists. Down at the atomic level, things are going on that we never even imagined. Subatomic particles aren't predictable. They sort of wink out and back into existence. No one knows exactly what that means yet. It does mean things aren't the way we thought. And you know reality isn't as simple as it appears. Not now that you've been witness to murders performed by a vampire. You followed the old man, you said, and then he suddenly disappeared. How difficult is it to believe that I can also perform feats that seem fantastic? All humankind can do these things, if they're trained, and if they believe. It's not as rare as you think."
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
"That's not all," she said. She stood and began to walk the length of the room, holding her small hands clasped in front of her. The satin of the dress swished against her legs as she moved. "After I prayed, the memories the old man had taken from me were restored. I knew what he'd done. So I . . . I sent him a message."
"The way you sometimes did for me when I was in Houston?"
She turned and came back toward him. "Yes. And the old man appeared. Alan, he was on his way to do something to your mind. My call stopped him. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't even remember now what it is we're talking about."
"So he came back? What did you do when he came back?"
"I made a pact with him."
"You what?"
"I told him we would drop all this. We wouldn't interfere with the vampires in this city. We'd never tell anyone. But . . ." She sank into the chair, her chin almost touching her chest. "I was too late. You told Charles Upton, and now he knows, too."
"Bette, how are we supposed to let this go? We discovered there are vampires and we're supposed to keep it to ourselves? That's impossible! And besides, I was hired to find them and report back to Upton. I did what I promised him I'd do."
She raised her head, and in her eyes he saw pity. "You still don't understand, do you? I made a promise. In order for the two of us to stay safe, I promised we'd let it go. I imagine the old vampire will know you told. And he might forgive you, on my behalf, because I made my promise after you revealed the secret."
"And if he doesn't forgive me?"
"He'll kill us. Or let us be killed, same thing.”
“You don't really believe that, Bette."
She took up her teacup and sipped slowly before replying. "Oh, yes, I do believe that, Alan. I believe it with all my heart. I know it."
"What can we do?" He was prepared to go along with what she said. He couldn't help but believe she knew more about what was happening than he did.
"We can wait. And we can never speak of them again, Alan. Ever. I've promised."
Alan thought about a world where vampires lived and shipped huge amounts of blood all over the state, vampires who could enter a person's mind, and wipe out memories, vampires who took innocent life without any regret. He shuddered uncontrollably. He was a man of science dropped into an alternate universe where nothing was as it appeared. Where monsters dwelled and telepathy was practiced easily by the woman he loved.
He brought his hand to his forehead as if to make it all go away. He didn't want to know what he knew anymore. He would have been happier if the old vampire had come to him and cleaned his mind of these unholy bits of knowledge.
"You know," Bette said, reading his mind again. "There is no unknowing. But you have to let it all go now, Alan. For my sake, if not your own."
"And we just hope we aren't going to be murdered in our sleep, is that it?"
"There are no alternatives," she said. "Would you like more tea?"
Alan slumped back into the sofa and let his hands rest alongside his thighs. He was so tired. He'd driven to Houston and back all in one day and it had left him drained. Night was coming fast outside the windows where moonlight crept through the panes onto the floor.
“Yes,” he said finally, "more tea, please. And turn on the lights, if you don't mind. It's getting dark in here. I hate the dark lately."
~*~
Upton's butler served equally well as his chauffeur. They were in the black limousine waiting in the parking garage when Alan left the building. Upton had hurried, carrying with him little more than credit cards, cash, and an overcoat. He was easily chilled by the air conditioning in cars.
They followed Alan from the city onto the freeway north to Dallas, always keeping a safe distance so that he wouldn't notice the unusual car tailing him. When he parked in front of Bette Kinyo's home, they drove past and around the block, then back again, parking down the block a bit. Upton could just see the front walk to the little home and knew if the couple looked outside, they'd never spot the limo.
George, Upton's butler and chauffeur, killed the engine. He said, "Should I get you anything, sir?"
Upton wanted a Coke. And Fritos. He also wanted a hot dog. His tongue tingled with the thought of the bite of mustard, the crunch of relish and onions. "Is there a store nearby?"
"I'll find one, sir."
Upton explained what he wanted to eat and sat still and peaceful in the comfortable leather seat waiting for George's return.
A dark-skinned child neared the window where Upton sat and tapped gently. Upton lowered the window a few inches. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Are you lost, mister?"
"No, young man, I am not lost. Now go away.”
“I was only trying to help."
"Shoo, shoo, fly, shoo," Upton hissed,
raising the window again. He knew the limo stood out in the old rundown neighborhood, but what choice did he have? The hood characters would never get to him anyway, even if they used baseball bats. The limo was special order, the sort used for politicians, for presidents. It was nearly impregnable, a fortress on wheels. Unbreakable glass that could stop bullets, reinforced tires, and locks on the doors that could not be jimmied.
When George returned half an hour later with the food, Upton fell upon the hot dog ravenously. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. "I hope you got yourself something," he said. "We're going to be here as long as it takes."
"I ate on the way back, thank you, sir."
"Right." Upton ripped open the Fritos bag and began to shovel them into his mouth. His lips, frozen, and without any feeling at all, impaired his eating, but did not completely deter him. He thought the junk food scrumptious. He hadn't eaten hot dogs in years.
~*~
Mentor arrived at Dell's house late. He'd been quite busy with new Naturals making the change. Of course, had he not been present to help them when they died, they might not have chosen to be Naturals, and he'd have been neglecting his duty. Still, he'd kept tabs on Dell and knew all about her involvement with the mortal, Ryan.
He knocked out of courtesy, but the door opened instantly as if Dell's mother knew he was on his way. They were all able to sense one another, even at some distance.
"You've come to see about Dell?" she asked. There were worry lines on her brow. Not only was her young son coming to an age when he would soon have to leave the family or be suspected of being some kind of abnormal child who never aged, but now her daughter, a vampire, was falling in love with a boy at her school. Life was never easy for a parent.
LEGIONS OF THE DARK (VAMPIRE NATIONS CHRONICLES) Page 22
