by Lea Kirk
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Why was that so mesmerizing? If she didn’t focus, their conversation could go in a completely different direction. “Does it bother you? When people ask, I mean.”
“Not when you ask.” His very subtle emphasis on “you” didn’t escape her.
There was something intense about his gaze, like he wasn’t just encouraging her to ask more questions, he was daring her. And she did do dares.
There was so much she didn’t know about him. What should she ask next? “Have you met any historically important people?”
Mikhail blinked, then tipped his head back and laughed. The sound of his amusement went straight to her heart, and she gave him a wide grin.
“That was delightfully unexpected, Donnie.” He set his glass on the table gently. “None when I was human, of course. I was the son of an upper-class Romanian merchant. But, after I was turned and could control my hunger, I found my way into the Romanov court.”
“You mean the Romanovs?”
“Yes. And before you ask, no, I do not know what became of Anastasia. I was in Italy when that tragedy occurred.”
Darn. “All right.” She leaned forward. “Do you still want to drink my blood?”
Oh, shit.
She slapped her hand over her mouth. Of all the stupid things to ask. Everything had gone still. The air seemed charged with the energy of an approaching storm. Even the crickets had stopped chirping. And Mikhail, he sat stiff and straight in his chair staring at her, as unmoving as a statue.
She moved her hand down as far as her chin. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. If he wanted, he could be across the table and have his teeth in her neck before she could blink. What had she done?
He moved, slowly. Placed his napkin on the table. “If you will excuse me.” He rose from his seat at a normal speed and walked back into the house, closing the French door behind him.
She exhaled. That was an intense moment. So intense she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until he was gone. She gazed down at her half-eaten meal.
Way to ruin dinner, Donnie.
A small appliance light shone from the kitchen, then was gone. Should she go check on him, or leave him alone? The safe bet was to go to her room where he couldn’t follow.
You screwed it up, now fix it.
She could try. No, she would. Even if Mikhail had gone and locked himself in his room. She owed him an apology, and somehow she’d convince him to come back outside and finish this wonderful dinner he’d made for her.
She pushed back from the table. With any luck, he was still in the kitchen. She opened the door and stepped into the cool air-conditioned darkness of the living room. A movement in the kitchen caught her attention. Good. He was still there. She moved toward the kitchen, trailing her fingers along the wall for guidance.
“Mikhail?” There. The shadow hunched over the kitchen sink. If only she’d kept her big mouth shut, they’d still be enjoying their meal. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
He didn’t move or respond.
“Mikhail?” Her fingers bumped against the light switch and she flicked it on. “Are you okay?”
Was he going to ignore her for the rest of the night?
He straightened and turned to face her, an opaque bag of thick, dark-red liquid pressed to his mouth. Was that blood? A small gasp escaped her and she took a step back. His gaze narrowed, but he didn’t stop drinking. She’d done it again. Hurt him. Given the impression that he was somehow deficient in her eyes.
Mikhail drained the last of the blood and tugged the bag off his fangs. A drip of red glistened on his bottom lip and he swiped his tongue over it as he stared at her.
Please, say something. Anything.
He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Now do you understand how much I desire to be human again?”
His low-spoken words rumbled through her like distant thunder. Yes. Yes, she did understand.
He turned away, opened the cabinet under the sink, and shoved the bag into the trash. Then leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth.
She lifted her chin. The whole point of coming in here was to apologize and set things right, and that’s what she was going to do.
Mikhail turned back to face her. “Donnie, I—”
“Me first.” She stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around his middle, and leaned her cheek against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter Eight
Donnie was hugging him…and apologizing. She could not possibly understand how vulnerable she had made herself by holding him in this manner with her head tucked under his chin. Anyone with common sense would be running from him. Not that Donnie did not have common sense; she did. Yet, hugging a vampire was not the best way to exhibit it. If not for the unit of blood he had consumed, his resistance would be tested to the breaking point.
He cleared his throat. “Why…are you doing this?”
She stiffened. “Because you’ve done everything you can to help me, to be my friend.”
Ouch. The dreaded “F” word. If she only knew that he wanted so much more than friendship from her.
He slowly brought his arms up and around her slim shoulders. Her body relaxed again, and he could not suppress a smile. “I do wish to help you, Donnie, if you will allow me.”
“I thought I could do this alone,” she said against his shirt. “But then you showed up and things got, I don’t know…easier?” She leaned back and met his gaze. “I’m not lonely anymore, and I like that.”
“I like that too.” Loneliness had been his constant companion for far too long. “I accept your apology and offer my own.”
“You don’t—”
“Let me finish.” He waited until she nodded. “I tried my damnedest to eliminate Ash so he would not continue to follow you. Your innocence and strength won me over in New York. Even after he escaped me in the alley, I stayed on his trail as he hunted you. I would not have allowed him to harm you. But in Penn Station, I thought all was lost. That you were on that train and he had gone with you. Then, as I reached the platform, I sensed you nearby. Was I right?”
Her eyes had slowly widened as he had explained. “Yeah. Holding Carnwennan’s hilt made me invisible. I threw my ruined skirt into one of the cars, hoping to misdirect both of you. It worked on Ash. He thought I was on the train, but since the doors were already closed, he jumped on top.” She wiggled the fingers of her other hand. “Buh-bye, Mr. Merrick.”
“That was brilliant, Donnie.” Risky, but brilliant.
“I don’t know why you could sense me but Ash couldn’t.”
The dagger had allowed it, that was why. “Whatever the reason, just sensing you were safe was good enough for me. I was near the end of my stamina, so I found cover in the darkness of the tunnel and transported myself to Charlie’s.”
She leaned back, putting a little more space between them. “You mean you transported? Like jumping from one place to another in the blink of an eye?”
“That would be a simplified description, yes. In reality, it involves opening a portal to pass through.” Draining, in his weakened state, but Charlie had come through, as always.
“How do you know Ash?”
Ah, now she was finally getting to that. He slid his hands to her shoulders. “If you do not mind, could we defer that distasteful tale until after dinner?”
“Okay.” She did not sound thrilled. “You promise to tell me?”
“I give you my word.”
Donnie nodded. “Then let’s get back to that lasagna before it gets cold.”
~*~
Thirty minutes later, Donnie relaxed against the back of the couch and accepted a glass of sherry from Mikhail. She’d only had one glass of wine with dinner, so the chance of being done in by one nightcap was remote.
The cushion dipped as Mikhail sat next to her. She tipped her glass toward him. “Here’s to excel
lent food, excellent conversation, and even better company.”
“Hear, hear,” he said as their glasses touched with a sweet, crystalline chime.
She sipped her drink, savoring the sweet heat as it slid down to her stomach. The silence lengthened, but not in a bad way. It was comfortable, as if they’d known each other a lot longer than a day—plus the few minutes they’d spent together in New York. But, that hadn’t exactly been quality time, so it didn’t count. Still, deep inside, the questions boiled.
“This has been a great evening, Mikhail, thank you.” Except for her little faux pas during dinner, but even that seemed to have resolved itself.
“I do not believe it has come to an end, has it?” He grinned. “Unless you are granting me a reprieve and calling it a night.”
“Not a chance.”
“I thought not.” He leaned forward and set his brandy snifter on the coffee table, then turned to face her fully, one arm propped on the back of the couch. “It is a complicated story. The culture I grew up in is radically different than the one we are in now.”
Romania in the sixteen hundreds compared to the United States in the two thousands? Yeah, there might be at least a few differences.
“I will give you the condensed version of my acquaintance with Ash Merrick. However, before I explain, you must know that I will ask the same question of you.”
She gave him a nod. “That’s fair.” But, god, what would he think once she confessed?
He inhaled deeply, held it, then released his breath. “As you know, my father was a successful merchant, and I was determined to follow in his footsteps. Not all merchants were men of honor as my father was. One night, a man representing an anonymous merchant paid a visit to my father and presented him with a business proposition. To be brief, the anonymous merchant’s plan was to peddle flesh. Specifically, children.”
“You mean human trafficking?”
“Exactly. My father was as appalled then as you are now. He rejected the offer, of course, and personally escorted the representative out his front gate with the instructions never to return. The man departed with the words, ‘So you have chosen your fate.’”
A shudder ran down Donnie’s spine, and the skin on her arms pebbled. That was creepy.
“At the time, I was married. My wife and I had a very young daughter, Irina.” His smile turned sweet and wistful. “She was the light of my life, as you would say now. When my father shared the event of the strange visitor, I was sickened. We watched, and all too soon the signs surfaced; children vanished. Most of them from poor families. But the incidences were random and spread out. We could not identify those responsible. My fear for Irina grew, but as it happened, she was not the target.”
Donnie drew in a sharp breath. “You were.”
“I was the heir, and the plan was to remove me so I could be replaced by a more convenient heir.”
“Irina?”
Mikhail set his mouth in a grim line. “Irina.”
“But, she was a baby.” She leaned forward and set her glass next to his on the coffee table
“It turned out the mysterious merchant had time on his side.” He shook his head. “The next time he sent the messenger, it was to my father’s warehouses on a night I worked late. I was no match for a vampire, because that is what he was. Once the deed was done, I was not allowed to return to my home. I would have killed my family, without a second thought. Even my beloved Irina, who was not yet two-years-old.”
His hand trembled against the cushion, but he didn’t seem to notice. Donnie reached out and took it between hers. His fingers were like ice, more in line with how she’d imagined a vampire would feel.
“For twenty years, my…creator moved me from one secluded place to another. In all that time I never discovered who his master was, though I tried. Then, one night, he went out and never returned. By then I had gained considerable control of my urges.” He wrinkled his nose as if he’d smelled something rotten. “So, I escaped and made my way back to Romania. By then, Irina was twenty-two and a widow with two daughters of her own to care for. My father had taken her in after my supposed death and again after her first husband died, so she had been well cared for. Despite her age and her daughters, she did have suitors. One was a merchant named Nathrach Makkor.
“My daughter was as intelligent as she was beautiful.” There was so much of a father’s pride in the way he spoke those words. Donnie blinked hard and fast against the tears rising in her eyes. “I chose to watch her from afar, as she believed me dead. Even so, I could see she did not like Makkor and actively discouraged him, but he persisted. Marrying the heir to my father’s profitable import-export business would have been his crowning achievement, at that time. Unfortunately, I made a fatal error in judgment. I confronted him.”
“Oh, no.” Even though she’d breathed the words, that was enough to bring Mikhail’s attention back on her fully. His expression was one of utter devastation, and an annoying tear rolled down her cheek leaving a warm trail.
“If I had not interfered, he would have disgraced her, and forced the marriage. This was how determined he was to add my father’s wealth to his own. I revealed myself to spare her. To stop him from destroying my beloved daughter’s life. Once he found out I was the true heir, he destroyed her in a much different, yet equally heinous, manner. He turned into a snake in front of me—in front of her—and killed her.”
He turned into a snake, just like…. “Oh, my god. He’s Ash Merrick, isn’t he?”
The tears flowed down Donnie’s cheeks. It’d happened right in front of Mikhail, and he blamed himself. How had he survived that loss on top of his personal change in circumstances?
Mikhail reached out his free hand, cupped her cheek, and wiped another tear with the pad of his thumb. “After moving to London two years later, Makkor changed his name to sound more English, and married another wealthy merchant’s widow after the man mysteriously died.”
“Bastard.”
“That is as good a name for him as any.” Mikhail’s smile was wan.
“I’m sure you’ve come up with better ones.” She would need a tissue soon before snot ran out of her nose, but the touch of his palm against her face was too nice to give up.
His chuckle was grim. “One or two.”
“What happened to your wife after you became a vampire?”
“She remarried, then died during childbirth, as so many women did back then. That is how it came to be that Irina was raised by my father. Her stepfather did not wish to take on that responsibility. My granddaughters succumbed to illness a year later, which was my father’s undoing. I did have the opportunity to reveal myself to him on his death bed. He thought I was there to take him home. I pray he is not too disappointed that I am not there.”
He grazed his thumb along her cheekbone. “The Carsons know this story, of course. They have been the closest thing to family I have had since I lost Irina and my father. But, you are the first human I’ve ever shared my full story with, Donnie. The first human to care enough to ask. Thank you for allowing me to share my burden.”
“You’re welcome.” She sniffed. “I think I need—”
“A tissue?” He handed her a box.
“Where…? How’d you do that?” She tugged a tissue, pressed it to her nose, and blew.
He grinned. “Trade secret.”
“Very funny.” Not.
“Now it is your turn,” he said. “How do you know Ash Merrick?”
Chapter Nine
Donnie swallowed. And now it was time for the truth. She looked down at her hands, her fingers curled around the tissue so tight her knuckles were white.
“Donnie?”
That was the tone of someone looking for answers. Someone who was concerned enough to ask how she’d ended up in this crazy mess. Something soft bumped against her leg. She stared at the southwestern pattern of the throw pillow Mikhail had pushed toward her.
“Some people feel more secure talking if they
hold something.” Mikhail’s voice was gentle as he faced her, giving her his full attention.
That misty sheen was back, blurring her vision, but she blinked it away. She didn’t deserve his kindness or understanding, yet she was grateful. “Thanks.”
She clutched the square throw pillow to her middle. He was right, of course. She did feel a little more comfortable, safe. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. So much had happened so fast that it was all a jumble in her mind. Where to even begin? Meeting Ash would be as good a place as any. She inhaled a deep breath, then blew it out again.
“About a year ago, I applied for and got a job as the personal assistant to an international antiquities dealer. It was a fun job, and I traveled a lot.” Best job she’d ever had, really. She’d learned so much about the antiquities world, and had discovered a deep appreciation for history.
“My boss was, of course, Ash Merrick.” She glanced at Mikhail and he gave her an encouraging nod. “I guess you could call our relationship professionally impersonal. He never got chummy with people, although he would go out of his way for his regular clients. He kept antiques all over his office, but the dagger was always in a display case behind his desk. It was a stunning piece of work, an antique multiple times over, and I couldn’t help but admire it every time I was in his office.
“A few months later, I was working overtime one weekend. I kept feeling these strange urges, getting flashes of images that definitely did not come from my brain.” A half-laugh slipped out. “I thought I was going crazy. It took me a while to figure out I wasn’t. That somehow the dagger was trying to communicate with me. From the first time I saw it, I got the sense that something was wrong, but never knew exactly what.
“Then, one evening six months later, I was working late, trying to locate a piece for one of his clients, and he came back to the office.” Staggering, but she hadn’t smelled alcohol. “He looked…old. Older. He went straight into his office and closed the door. I thought that was strange, but none of my business. If he needed my help, he’d buzz me. So I stayed focused on my internet research.”
