by Lee, Rachel
If Yvonne needed a doctor, the situation could get very difficult.
Reaching his penthouse, he found the door still open as he had left it. Native caution made him sniff the air. In its scents he read the evening just past, but nothing new. Stepping inside, he kicked the door shut, pressed the lock button, and heard the dead bolts engage with a solid thunk.
Then he carried Yvonne to his bed, where he laid her down gently. She was still wide-eyed, still breathing too rapidly, and he smelled the fear that perfumed her enticing scent.
But nothing else. He studied her, looking for signs of internal injury, which would have shown as a heat bloom. When he found none, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding until that moment.
“Where do you hurt?” he asked her.
“My shoulder aches a little. But I’m fine, Creed. When he threw me, I slid more than I hit. I’m just glad I was wearing jeans and long sleeves.”
But he saw no gladness in her green eyes. None at all. She looked haunted and hunted, and terrified. “What happened?” she asked thinly. “I couldn’t see much.”
Before he could answer, she saw his chest. A gasp escaped her and she sat bolt upright. “What happened to you?”
“A fly-by swipe,” he answered, trying to sound humorous. “Don’t worry, it’s already healing. It’ll be gone in an hour.”
“Why did he hurt you? Why did he threaten to kill me? Creed, what’s going on? Everyone talked around things at dinner and I just kept quiet because I didn’t really know what to ask.”
First he had something more important to deal with, and now that he knew she was all right, anger surged in him.
“How the hell did he get in here?”
Yvonne paled, maybe because there was no mistaking the anger in his tone. “I, uh, opened the door.”
“Did it never occur to you that might be a stupid thing to do?”
She reared up, her eyes sparking. “I’m not stupid. I knew what I was doing. I was getting out of here. I’m sick of being talked around, sick of not getting answers. I feel like a piece of baggage, and not one that’s especially wanted!”
“Yvonne…”
“No, you’ve all made it clear. Especially you. I’m just a problem to be solved and I’m not even entitled to know what’s going on. You keep dropping hints, but how the hell am I supposed to deal with all of this if you won’t tell me what’s going on? How was I to know that opening a door could get me kidnapped by a vampire when you won’t even tell me?”
Creed’s anger faded before the force of what she was saying. He couldn’t deny it. Oh, he’d been all up front about telling her he was a vampire, but then he’d basically left her dangling in the wind with heavy hints and little information.
At last he sighed, dreading all the thorny places these questions would take him. Then he gathered her close and just held her, drinking in her warmth and scent like a drug. For once they calmed him, rather than arousing him. He felt oddly grateful that she didn’t make even a small attempt to escape his embrace. She’d have been entitled to.
“After my change,” he said slowly, “it felt as if the entire world had gone mad. It must have felt that way tonight to you, especially after Luc grabbed you. I am so, so sorry.”
Her arms slipped hesitantly around him, and he reveled in the sensation. “It did seem crazy. I honestly wasn’t sure what was happening until he stopped. My God, he was moving so fast it was like being on a crazy carousel. I couldn’t even see!”
“I know.”
“But why did he want to kill me?”
“He’s not thinking clearly now.” Nor was he, come to that, because right now all he wanted to do was bury his body inside hers, and sip her blood, just a little bit....
He drew away quickly, leaving her gasping.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice tight. “I need blood to heal.” He headed for the fridge, knowing it was just an excuse to tamp down his urges. He wasn’t so hungry that he needed it, but he was hungry for her which made it essential.
“Then drink mine.”
The words froze him in midstep. Several seconds, at least several, ticked by before he could bring himself to answer. “No. Don’t be crazy.”
“I’m not being crazy. I hate being dependent on you. I hate being a leech on your life. Even more, I hate knowing that having me around torments you. But I can’t figure out what to do. I was going to leave tonight. I was heading out the door when Luc got me. Apparently I can’t stop leaning on you. Giving you a little blood hardly seems like enough to pay you back.”
“No. You don’t owe me a thing. And for the love of heaven, don’t you dare try to leave again. You’re in danger!”
“I know that. And I owe you plenty. Creed, you just saved my life!”
“I don’t want payback. I don’t want it.” He whirled to face her, aware that his eyes must be as black as pitch. “That’s the last way I want your blood. You insult me!”
She gasped, and horror filled her face. “I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did. I guess in your mind I don’t even qualify as a friend. I’m just hired help, to be paid in some coin or other. And that’s an insult to me and my motives.”
He turned, grabbed a bag from the fridge and headed out into the living room, where he ignored the nicety of using a glass and simply tore into the bag of blood with his teeth, sucking it dry.
His chest, already healing, still hurt. But other things hurt worse. Now he knew where he fit on Yvonne’s scale. In her eyes, his motives couldn’t possibly be pure. The sharpest cut of all.
“Creed.” Her voice came from behind him and he stiffened. “Creed, I didn’t mean it that way.”
He closed his eyes, squeezing the bag of blood in his fist until one of the last few drops oozed out. He smelled it, felt it run over his hand. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
He heard a soft cry escape her. Listened as she whirled and went back into his bedroom. He wondered if she would lock him out, leaving him to the mercies of dawn. Part of him hoped she would.
But she didn’t. She didn’t close the door even a bit.
Maybe that meant something.
Or not.
Yes, it was past her bedtime, but sleep eluded Yvonne. If anything, the night’s events had left her so far awake that she wondered if she’d ever sleep again.
First that shocking abduction by a vampire. Things happening so fast that she hadn’t been sure what was happening until Luc stopped in the garage and threatened to snap her in two. Her heart slammed at the mere memory of the threat, for she had felt his unbreakable strength when she had tried to struggle, in the moments before the world began moving so fast that terror had frozen her, and again when they had stopped.
The fall through the stairwell had been a total blur, and she had barely grasped what had happened only when he paused to open the door into the parking garage.
Everything was a smear of wind, color and steel arms.
Then the encounter between Luc and Creed. Shocking in a different way. Even after she’d been thrown and lay stunned on the ground, she had felt power and menace unlike anything in her experience. Except possibly that thing in her condo.
And then she had managed to insult Creed so deeply that he didn’t even want her apology or her explanation.
She rolled over, and buried her face in a pillow, trying to stave off tears. Too much was happening too fast, and she felt utterly overwhelmed. Just a few days ago—okay, little more than a week—she’d been living a very ordinary life. Then some presence had started haunting her home, she’d learned vampires were real, been told that a demon wanted her, then Luc had tried to abduct her and now Creed was mad at her…
A primal scream would have felt good right then, but instead she let hot tears flow. How could she have ever guessed that her very ordinary life was actually constructed on the tiny tip of a needle, and only a small push could change everything forever?
Only this had been more than a small push. Mo
re like getting hit by a freight train.
Too much. Way too much. If only she could burrow back through time and move into a different apartment.
But she couldn’t be sure that would have changed a thing in the end, especially since Tommy might be at the root of all this. Except that she might never have come to know Creed.
And she wasn’t sure that anything at all could make her wish that had never happened.
She thought her tears were silent, but apparently something had alerted Creed. All of a sudden he sat on the bed’s edge and touched her shoulder lightly. “Are you hurting?”
At first she didn’t even want to answer. But finally she squeezed out a few words. “Only my heart.”
Silence. Absolute, profound silence. From what she could tell, he didn’t even stir to draw a breath.
“Yvonne…”
When he didn’t continue, she reluctantly rolled over. She couldn’t let him continue to think that she had meant to insult him. “It’s not you,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s me. I hate being beholden. I hate it.”
“You owe me nothing.”
“I know. You never asked for a thing. But…it’s how I feel. I feel like I’m taking so much. I’m a burden. I know it’s hard for you to have me around. Terri told me tonight…” She trailed off, unable to continue.
“Ah,” he said quietly. “Terri.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I didn’t fully understand how hard it must be for you to have me around all the time. And that made me feel awful. Just awful! You didn’t ask for this, but here you are stuck with a human who must be testing your self-control every single minute. I feel terrible about that. Horrible about the way I’ve had to impose on you.”
His eyes, she saw, had lost their blackness and grown more golden. That beautiful gold that always struck her.
“Let me explain,” he said quietly. “I chose to invite you here. No one made me offer my protection.”
“Jude…”
“Jude asked me to take you home and check your apartment. Beyond that, everything was my choice. I could, if I had wanted, let you go to a hotel. Or taken you back to Jude. There were other options. I was actually glad to be able to offer you some security. It’s been a long time since I could do that for anyone.”
She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. “But it’s hard on you.”
“Little worth doing is ever easy.” The faintest of smiles curved his mouth. “I freely admit that my craving for you surpasses description. But telling myself no also builds my character, don’t you think?”
A damp, tear-choked laugh escaped her. “Why is everything painful supposed to build our characters?”
He shrugged, looking more amused now. “Beats me. But nobody gets all the way through life the easy way. Nobody.”
He lifted his head, as if sensing something. Then he hesitated. “We have time to go visit my friend Avi, if you feel brave enough to let me carry you there, it’s faster than a car.”
She realized she hadn’t minded at all when Creed carried her. A whole different thing than when Luc had snatched her. In fact, she thought, tipping her head, it might be an interesting experience to repeat when she wasn’t terrified.
“Sure,” she said. “Do I need to close my eyes?”
“It won’t do you much good to keep them open. I move faster than your brain can register visually. You’ll have to cling to my back though, because I’m going over the rooftops.”
“Wow. I hope I can see something.”
He laughed. “Who knows? Maybe you will. You often astonish me.”
He insisted she wrap up against the night chill while he called Avi Herschel. Yvonne was surprised that anyone was answering their phone this late at night, but before she could get around to asking about it, Creed scooped her up, settled her on his back and they were off.
Not out his door and down the stairwell, but over the edge of the terrace. That was the last thing she could truly see as the wind bit sharply at her face. Her surroundings passed in an amazing blur of shadow and colored light, so fast that she instinctively gasped for air and buried her face against Creed’s back.
The next thing she knew, they had come to a stop. When she lifted her head, she could see that they stood on a small balcony, mostly a fire escape landing, outside a window. Creed lowered her carefully to her feet.
“We’re here,” he said.
While he rapped on the window, she looked around, trying to figure out where she was. It was certainly a long way from the high-end condos where she and Creed lived.
The window slid open with a creak, and a surprisingly young, bearded face peeked out.
“Creed,” a jovial voice said with evident pleasure. Then a pair of dark eyes settled on Yvonne. “Who is this?”
“My friend Yvonne. She can be trusted.”
Avi sniffed the air in a way she was coming to know. Then he looked at the slashed front of Creed’s shirt, where gashes still showed.
“And you. Are you bringing trouble?”
“Not to you, of that I’m sure.”
“If you say so,” Avi said after a moment. “Come in, come in.”
Creed helped her over the window ledge then followed her inside. The dimly lit apartment was decorated with furnishings from a much older era and smelled a bit musty. Books were stacked everywhere, having overflowed the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. A few dim lamps were lit, and she wondered how anyone could see to read by them.
Then it struck her: Avi Herschel must be a vampire, too.
At once she wanted to find a seat. As if sensing it, Creed guided her to an armchair. When she sat, a cloud of dust seemed to rise.
“So,” said Avi, eying her cautiously, “you trust her.”
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have brought her. We don’t have much time.”
“No.” Avi sighed and stroked his beard. “I’m sorry, dear lady, but I don’t have any refreshment to offer you. I’m not used to…visitors of your kind.”
“It’s all right,” Yvonne managed, feeling awfully uncertain about this development. “Thank you for thinking of it.”
“I still have manners, even after all these centuries. Breaking bread, sharing tea, these are important things.”
“Avi,” Creed said with a touch of impatience, “on to business. We don’t have time to be social.”
Avi waved a hand then settled into a creaky wood chair in front of an ancient wood desk. “There is always time to be polite.”
“Unless the sun is about to rise. Asmodai seems to have his eye on my friend here.”
“Ah, that’s not good!” Avi muttered something into his beard. Then his dark gaze settled on Yvonne. “So next time I will have some tea for you. A nice, strong Russian blend.”
“Thank you.” Yvonne wondered if she was slipping down some kind of rabbit hole. What was all this with tea?
“Avi,” Creed said a touch impatiently. “Time. Sun. Asmodai.”
“Right.” Avi’s attention swung to Creed again. “That one, he’s always causing trouble with the ladies.” He looked once more at Yvonne. “A lovely lady, too.” Then he sighed. “My dear woman, you must understand the world is full of things, many which you have never seen, and many which, God willing, you will never see. Asmodai is an angel.”
“An angel!”
Avi nodded. “I’ve been studying the subject for several thousand years and I’m not quite sure I understand.”
Yvonne was stunned. Several thousand years? He couldn’t possibly mean that! But of course, in this new world in which she existed, it seemed he could. She looked desperately at Creed.
“Avi,” he said, “this is helping how?”
“You must understand the nature of the beast.”
“So you say he’s an angel. Well, what do we know about angels?”
“That they can be terrible beings indeed. What we know about this one is small but significant. He was not cast out of heaven. So it becomes a
question of his purpose when he does ill.”
Creed finally sat down. “That is a good question.”
“His true purpose is shrouded, but it is evident he hasn’t done all that much harm…except for his proclivity for human women.”
“Indeed,” Creed said drily. “Well, he’s apparently arranging a circle in order to come through in physical form. We need to bind him when he tries. I understand the Tetragrammaton will do the job?”
“Well, you must ask yourself what you hope to accomplish. Asmodai will avoid the Tetragrammaton.” He returned his attention to Yvonne, apparently enjoying having a pupil. “The four letters that represent the unpronounceable name of God. They also stand for ‘I am’ which raises the question of whether they are a name at all.”
