David unplugged the stereo as Krys went to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Strong arms carefully picked her up. Krys clasped David around the neck as he carried her upstairs, and carefully sat her on the bed. He sat down next to her, then handed her the box of tissues. Krys took two, then blew her nose.
“Tell me why you’re so upset,” David said softly. “What does that song mean to you?”
Krys took another tissue out of the box, then dabbed at her face.
David waited.
She took a few more hitching breaths.
David clasped his hand in hers. “Do you want me to leave, Krystin?”
“No,” Krys said tearfully. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”
David put his arms around her, hugging her. “Then I’ll stay. But please, tell me. You must tell someone. Whatever it is you’re hiding is tearing you up inside.”
Krys pulled back from him gently, then pulled her sweater off over her head. She pulled off her turtleneck, revealing her white cotton bra. Carefully, she took David’s hand in hers, and brought it to her check, rubbing gently.
David sighed, the sound loud in the quiet. “Krystin, I—”
Krys leaned closer, bringing David’s hand around to her back, pressing it there with her hand. David, blinked, his fingers feeling the raised tissue.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“You weren’t the only one that made bad decisions,” Krys said quietly. “I did, too. The worst one was Richard.”
David touched her back slightly. “There is a word there?”
“The beginning of one,” Krys admitted. “He wanted me to get a tattoo of his name to symbolize our love. I refused. Later that night, when I was drinking, he put something in my beer—”
“He was lucky he didn’t kill you,” David said angrily. He let out a breath. “Please go on.”
“When I went to sleep, he went to work on me.” Krys paused, visibly struggling for words. “But halfway through he sliced too deep with his knife.”
“I’m sorry,” David said gently, hugging her. He touched the raised welts. “Was there nothing the surgeon could do?”
Krys shook her head. “Sometimes cutting causes this type of scarring. Instead of a little collagen helping the wound to heal, my body produced an overabundance. That caused the scar tissue. It’s called a hypertrophic scar. If you mess with them, they only get worse.”
“Does it hurt?” David said gently, his hand resting on the scar, but not pressing. “This was long ago?”
“Ten years,” Krys said, her smile pained. “The doctors say that in time, it will fade completely. Every day I check, and it always looks the same.”
“I’m sorry,” David said softly, stroking her back.
“So am I,” Krys whispered, burrowing into his chest. “It itches terribly sometimes...”
David moved back, then tilted her chin up with his hand, his cool lips meeting hers. The shock of being kissed made Krys draw breath quickly.
David pulled back, his dark blue eyes questioning, clearly wondering if he’d overstepped in kissing her. Krys reached out her hand to his face, bringing his lips again to meet hers. At first, their kisses were light, the gentle touch making Krys’s heart race, and her body tingle. Then David’s kisses became deeper, more sensual, his arms pulling her close, his body pressing against hers.
Krys began kissing down David’s neck, her lips hot against his cool skin. David took her gently by the shoulders, stopping her.
“Don’t think I don’t want to, because I do,” he said, his tone desire and hope. “But are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want to take advantage—”
“I do,” Krys said huskily, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him for all she was worth. David responded, pulling her astride him, his lips devouring hers.
* * * *
She was going to die if she didn’t get some water. Parched, Krys grabbed her robe. Wrapping it around her, she hastened downstairs to the bathroom. Stumbling on the last step, she caught her hip on the door handle and let out a curse at the sharp pain, dropping her robe. She ran to the sink, fumbling for a plastic cup.
There was a loud screech from outside, as brakes squealed. Krys peered out the window blinds as her hands hurriedly filled a cup in the bathroom sink. It was sunny out there today, at least. She gulped down one cup of chill water, then another. Her thirst finally sated, she put the cup down, and turned to leave. Glancing up, Krys caught sight of her back reflected in the cabinet mirror above the sink.
The scar on her shoulder was gone. In its place was new pink skin, the tone slightly reddened, as if by a sunburn.
In disbelief, afraid to look away, Krys reached up her hand, watching her reflection do the same, her fingers confirming that the new skin was real.
What had happened last night? David had to have done this, somehow.
Krys felt the new skin again, then smiled widely, laughing in sheer joy not to see the ugly half word there anymore. She felt better than she had in years. She felt reborn.
* * * *
It took more than an hour for Krys to get over her happy surprise. For years she’d chosen her clothes carefully, coverage her first concern, and also shunned mirrors. Now she couldn’t get enough of her naked reflection, loving how young and carefree she felt.
But her body soon reminded her that she’d not really had dinner in two nights, and that the temperature was wrong for naked jubilation, no matter how deserved. With new energy, Krys put on a sweatshirt and jeans over her goose bumped flesh and began making a big brunch, trying to figure out how this miracle had occurred.
David and she had made love last night, several times in fact. He’d been wonderful, both enthusiastic and considerate. She’d fallen asleep in his arms, completely satisfied. But sex—even fantastic sex—wasn’t a cure for scars.
Krys thought back as she ate, replaying the night, trying to find the moment when she’d last felt the tightness of her mark. The last time with him, he’d kissed her scar as he loved her, his tongue caressing her warm skin, his mouth gently sucking. The sensation coupled with his lovemaking had been dreamy, erotic, and blissfully wonderful all at once. Krys had wanted it to go on and on, but the climax had crested, sheer pleasure washing over her. When she’d gone limp under him, her cries ebbing along with his, David had given her shoulder a last kiss, then rolled onto his back, bringing her into his arms to hug her tightly. She’d hugged him back, then dropped off to sleep, exhausted. David had left sometime after that, somewhere near dawn.
Unbelievable as it was, David had somehow done this. How? Was he a sorcerer? Magic of some kind had to be involved.
Why had he left afterwards? To go sleep in the basement? And how had his kiss healed her?
Maybe he was a vampire, and there was a coffin down there. Krys snorted, then chuckled. That didn’t work, as she didn’t have any fangs herself this morning. Moreover, there wasn’t room for a coffin in that truck of his, unless he strapped it in the truck bed. That would be a sight...
Krys peered outside again through the drapes. David’s truck was still there, parked in the same place.
Should she go over and knock? By the clock, it was about one in the afternoon. But what if he was busy composing? That opportunity he’d spoken of was clearly important to him. Damn it, why hadn’t he left her a note...
Maybe he had, and she’d been in such a rush to get downstairs that she’d missed it. Krys rolled her eyes, made an irritated noise, then went back upstairs to look. There on the nightstand was a piece of paper, the writing delicate block letters. Relieved, she picked it up and began to read.
Krystin,
I hope when you wake you will feel happy. I’m equally sure you’ll have questions. I will answer them if you wish tonight at midnight. Please come over to the Chalet then, or leave me a note there that you wish me to come to you.
It was wonderful to be with you last night. Writing that sounds trite, but it’s the tr
uth. I’ve been as lonely as you have been, and I very much want to see you again.
In Genuineness, David
“You’ve got a way with words, David,” Krys murmured, shivering in excitement as she remembered his kisses. “But I think I’ll let you come to me.”
* * * *
While Krys would have enjoyed a few more hours sleep, she also was eager to be out and about. Though her scar was covered with several layers, knowing it was gone made her feel empowered, as if she’d gotten sudden good news that she couldn’t wait to share with everyone. Krys walked the trails, making pleasant conversation with a few older couples at the scenic overlooks, greeting the other visitors that crossed her path with a wide smile.
This was how she remembered the park being. This was who she remembered being, this woman who was alive and happy and knew that not only did she have a great destiny, but she was also going to achieve it. However David had accomplished his magic, he was going to get nothing but her gratitude.
On her way back to her cottage that evening, Krys dropped off a note on the door of the Chalet, telling David to come and see her at nine. Then she headed inside, planning on a long bath, and then maybe dinner and a nap, before David arrived.
Krys had just emerged from her bath an hour later when there was a sharp knock at the door. Worried, she got out, wrapped her robe around herself, and went to the front door, moving aside the curtain. There was no one there.
She unlocked the door, then walked out onto the porch. “David?”
A hand went over her mouth, as she was grabbed from behind. “Shush, if you know what’s good for you.”
Krystin thrashed hard, but the arms around her held firm. Swiftly, she was dragged backward into the cottage, the door slamming hard. Her attacker threw her to the floor, locked the door, then rested a chair under the handle.
Krys watched him from the floor, conscious of being dressed in only her robe. The man was tall and gaunt, his eyes black pinpricks in his white face. Yet his clothing was oddly upscale, his khakis and heavy coat almost tailored.
“Who are you?” she said defiantly.
“That’s not important,” the man said, going to the window and looking out. “Get dressed. You have two minutes. Or you’ll go in your robe.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you—”
The man hissed, baring long fangs, the lower two almost as long as the upper ones. “Go!”
Krys ran for the stairs, and up to her bedroom, the man close behind. She slammed into her center room, and shut the door in his face.
“I can break this down in an instant,” he said in a low amused voice. “You now have one minute before I do, Krys.”
Krys’s eyes widened. He knew her name.
“Forty seconds—”
Krys lunged for the closet.
* * * *
“I told you, you were better off being quiet,” the man said patiently. “You are the one who screamed. You have only to blame yourself.”
Krys glared at him above the tape over her mouth, and kept following him, the rope around her bound hands making her stumble with every few steps.
“This is far enough,” the man said, stopping. He turned to Krys and pulled her toward him, grasping her arms, then shoved her up against a tree.
Krys began to struggle, fighting him. With a crack of his hand, he slapped her, the blow making her bite her tongue as tears came to her eyes. Before she could gather her wits, she was securely tied. In fear of what was to come, Krys stared at her captor, motionless.
“Good,” the man said, then turned and began to walk off. A moment later, he was lost among the trees.
Relieved, Krys sagged in her bonds. Then a moment later, she straightened with sudden hope at the sight of David coming toward her through the trees. As he neared, Krys’s eyes rounded in horror to see the gaunt man rushing toward him, a fancy sword in his hand. She tried to cry out, to warn David, but the tape muffled her cries. In desperation, she kicked out with her leg, trying to draw his attention. The man was almost on him!
In a smooth motion, David drew a gun and fired, the silenced bullet hitting the gaunt man in the forehead with a short “pfft.” The man’s head jerked back as he fell to the ground, the sword dropping from his slack hand. With a deft move, David grabbed the weapon with his free hand, then severed the man’s head in a powerful blow. He sent the head rolling off with a kick of his foot.
Breathing hard, David turned to Krys, letting the sword fall from his hand. She looked into his dark blue eyes with her own scared ones.
David reholstered his gun, and hurried to her side as she began to squirm. “Shh,” he whispered, untying her. “You’re safe now. Brace yourself.” With a fast rip, he tore off the tape.
“Ow!” Krys yelped.
“Are you okay?” David said, looking her over. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“Who was that?” Krys said angrily.
“That opportunity I want?” David replied darkly. “Others want it, too.” His jaw worked, as he stepped back from her. “I’ve got to leave tonight, before I put you in any more danger.” He walked back to the sword, and grabbed it up. “Can you make it back to the cottage by yourself?”
“Yes,” Krys retorted, miffed he would allow her to walk back. Hadn’t he just told her there were others, as in plural? What if another guy jumped her on her way back? “Do you want me to call the police?”
“No,” David said, wiping off the sword blade on the corpse. “He’ll turn to dust by tomorrow morning.” He looked up at her. “But the sword won’t.”
There had been enough mystery and innuendos. “He had fangs, David. I saw them.”
“He’s dead now, Krystin. He can’t come back and hurt you. In a few hours, there won’t be any trace of him left. That’s what happens to all my kind in the sunlight.” He smiled sadly. “Just go back to your cottage and forget this ever happened.”
He was telling her he was a vampire, even if he hadn’t said the word. Impossible as that might make any relationship between them, the last thing Krys wanted was for David to disappear out of her life. “When will you be back? A few days?”
“I might not come back,” David said gently, squeezing her hand.
Krys stared at him, her eyes wide in disbelief, her hopes devastated.
“It wouldn’t be because I didn’t want to,” David said quickly. He grimaced. “Oh hell, I’m sorry to say this all so badly. I’m not good with words, Krys. I’m much better expressing myself in music.”
Krys just looked at him, blinking back tears.
“Come here,” David said softly, hugging her. “I didn’t want to spring everything on you at once. I didn’t want to heal you last night, to not be with you when you woke. But if it was a choice between healing you and not healing you, I had to take it. Do you understand?”
“How did you do it?” Krys whispered, looking into his eyes. “No more vagueness, David.”
“I’m a vampire,” David said bluntly, baring his fangs slowly. “My blood and saliva has healing ability. I carefully used both to heal your scar.”
Her conclusive jest earlier had been the correct one. She took a long breath, then let it out. “I didn’t feel fangs when you kissed me.”
“I was careful,” David replied evenly. “That you had a few drinks helped.” He smiled widely, revealing his fangs.
“Did you drink my blood?” Krystin asked tentatively, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“A little, yes,” David admitted. “It was inevitable in healing you. But I didn’t heal you to get your blood.”
“I know you didn’t,” Krys said softly, then she hugged him. “Maybe I should be screaming, or brandishing a cross at you. But you just saved me from that fiend. Last night you did what no doctor could, not with all the latest technology. It makes sense that there’s an extraordinary explanation. What you just admitted doesn’t change how I feel, or make me regret anything that’s happened between us.” She kissed David’s che
ek. “Thank you for what you did.”
David hugged her back, all the tension going out of his body. “I’m glad you’re not upset. I thought you might have hysterics, especially with being kidnapped.”
“I’m happier to be rid of that scar,” Krys replied. She looked at the headless body disdainfully. “And I’m not sorry he’s dead.” She turned back to David, expectant. “So why won’t you come back with me?”
“I will, now I know you want me to,” David said, looking around uneasily as he took off his long sleeve shirt, wrapping the sword in it. “I thought you might want to end things now, with what’s happened. I was giving you an easy out.”
“I’m staying in, David,” Krys said staunchly. “But I do want the unvarnished truth, all of it, not to mention an escort back.”
“You have both, then. I’ll tell you the rest when I know you’re safe inside walls. Come on back to my place.”
* * * *
“Tell me,” Krys said, leaning back on the couch across from David. “I’m as safe now as I’m going to be. You know all my secrets. Tell me yours.”
“You might as well know it all,” David said uneasily, his tension returning. “There is a vampire hierarchy in every country. The United States is no exception. There is a Lord—well, he calls himself Ruler—and under him for each state is another vampire, then under them more lesser-ranked vampires for the cities on down. Danial Racklan—the vampire who was in charge in Colorado—left recently to preside over New York. I want his old spot.” He paused. “My benefactor—the one I told you about—is the Lord over all. His name is Devlin Dalcon. He is the one who made me a vampire, years ago. States don’t come up for grabs often. The competition will be fierce. Devlin won’t play favorites, not when it comes to something like this. My musical ability is my edge; I hope it will sway him in a tight decision. But I’ll also need to demonstrate leadership abilities: intelligence, cunning, and bravery. And I’ll have to fight the other applicants.” David took a long breath, then let it out. “Those can be to the death sometimes, if neither participant will yield.” He looked up at Krystin, his eyes scared yet determined. “I can’t afford to yield, Krystin. Either I’ll come back to you as victor, or I’ll not come back at all. But I am going to leave tonight, so I don’t draw anymore danger to you.”
Promise Me Anthology Page 19
