by Renee Rose
Roxanna laughed and waved her hand at Fox. “You can let her go. He's mine now,” she said with a wide smile. “You all are.”
He made a big deal about crawling up onto his hand and knees and hurling again, this time on the body of the vampire with a stake still in his chest. Then in one fluid movement, he grasped the stake, pulled it out and whirled, plunging it straight through Roxanna's back and into her heart. She never saw it coming.
Fox was on him again, fighting with an intensity and speed that made it difficult to defend himself. Stella materialized, fighting the other vampire. She finished him with a war-cry then captured Fox in a choke-hold.
“What do we do with him?” Stella's eyes were wide and pleading. She never, ever showed fear, but he could see it in her now. She didn't want to kill Fox. Neither of them did. And she was begging him to save him.
“Hold him tight,” he said grimly. He caught sight of the duct tape they'd used to bind Kate and he snatched it up. “I'll hold him, you wrap his wrists and ankles,” he instructed, taking over trying to contain the struggling vampire. Stella made quick work of it. They shoved Fox down in a chair.
“Unbind her,” he barked at Stella, indicating Kate.
He put his hands on Fox's shoulders. Then adjusted himself so he could put one hand on his chest and one hand behind, on his back. He felt a current of energy flow between the two hands. He sent up a spire again. The blackness parted this time and he felt a stream of light flowing down into the top of his head. Tears ran down his face at the grace of it. He made his request. His intention that Fox's essence be restored to him. He felt nothing change. Oh God. Why not? Was it too late? He tried again. He changed his intent—to clear Roxanna's blood and essence from Fox. This time he felt movement. That same sense of chaos he'd felt in his own body. A sickness in his belly. Fox convulsed under his hands. He held them steady, held his intent steady. After what felt like a long time but was probably more like ten minutes, he felt the energy smooth out again.
Fox was weeping. Sobbing actually. He didn't know how to verify that Fox was truly himself again, but there was no question in his mind that he was. He grasped Fox's head and pulled it against his chest, holding him tightly as he wept, stroking his head.
Stella and Kate were crying too. Kate knelt at Fox's feet and held his hands in her own while Stella cut the tape that bound him. They huddled together like that—the four of them all hugging and weeping. Then he scooped Kate up into his arms and carried her to the bed where he cradled her in his lap and rocked her like a baby. Not that she needed it—it was for his own comfort.
“Mi dispiace, amore mio. I brought this on you. I'm so sorry.”
Stella had dropped into Fox's lap, and they curled in together, giving and receiving the same comfort.
“You saved me,” Dom murmured. Then he couldn't help but smile. “You were brilliant. You saved us all.”
* * *
She slept the entire night in Dom's arms, with him alternately applying and removing ice packs to her face, staring at her bruises with grim concern. He had tried to take her to the hospital in case she needed x-rays or stitches, but she refused. They had argued back and forth about it.
In the end, he used his intuition to analyze her. He had just held her head in his two hands and closed his eyes. Then he had opened them and said there was no fracture to her orbital bone. Fox had murmured “are you okay?” to Dom afterward, but he had just shrugged with a little smile. “I guess so,” he'd said with a surprised tone.
Her face really did hurt, so after showering and eating breakfast, she took three ibuprofen and crawled back in bed next to her sleeping vampire to watch movies until he woke. When he did, he scooped her back into the circle of his arms and inspected her face with the same concern he'd shown all night. “How do you feel, bambina?”
She tried to smile, but winced at the pain. “Happy to be back in your bed.”
For some reason that put a wistful look on his face and he got up abruptly to use the restroom and take a shower. Upstairs, they found Stella, Fox and Randolph in the kitchen, eating a delicious stir-fry of chicken and vegetables over brown rice. Stella urged her and Dom to join them so they filled their plates and sat down.
“So how did you do it?” Randolph asked Dom with a broad smile.
“Kate told me how,” Dom said softly, looking at her with a loving look. Then he shrugged. “I just refused to allow the change to happen. It was sheer will.”
Randolph looked at him like he didn't believe it. “And how'd you change Fox back?”
Dom considered for a moment. “These are things, Randolph, that there aren't good words to describe. It seemed to me that I felt into his body and then asked his cells to change back. Whether that's the reality of how it happened, I couldn't say. Perhaps it was just that I said a prayer and God answered.”
Randolph raised his eyebrows at that. “God, eh?” He shook his head like he didn't believe in any such thing.
“What I felt was that I was two people trapped in the same body,” Fox said. “My real self was still in there, thinking, seeing, but unable to act or speak for myself. And then there was the self that belonged to Roxanna. I couldn't break past that self.” He turned to Kate, “When I was holding the knife to your throat, the real me was still there, but I just couldn't stop myself from doing Roxanna's bidding. I couldn't stop myself from attacking Dom, and the whole time the real me was praying you two wouldn't drive a stake through my heart,” he said, looking ruefully from Stella to Dom.
Stella shook her head. “There's no way we would do that.”
He raised his eyebrows, challenging that statement. “You would have if you had to.”
“It would have killed us and you know it,” Stella said, dead serious.
“Of course I know it,” Fox said gently.
After dinner, Dom continued to treat her like a princess, running to the store to buy Godiva ice cream, which she ate in bed. She felt much better the next morning, but still didn't stray from Dom's house, still feeling like she needed to be close to him after the trauma of the recent events. When he woke he began making love to her reverentially, kissing along her neck down to her breast, which he teased with his lips and tongue until her nipple stood at attention. He continued to worship her body, leaving no part of her unkissed, caressing her until she felt as warm and fluid as melted butter. Only then did he enter her, still holding the same reverence, looking her straight in the eye with an intensity that burned into her soul. She almost didn't climax—it was too delicious and slow, but then his climax was so beautiful that she shuddered around him, feeling the spasm of her muscles drawing his seed deep within her. Afterward she felt as relaxed and warm and loved as she possibly could imagine feeling.
He got out of bed, showered and dressed and then sat in an armchair in his room and pulled her onto his lap. “Kate,” he said, sounding very serious. “You almost got killed because of me.”
She shook her head quickly. This wasn't the kind of thinking that was going to be helpful.
“No, listen. I told you before that vampires and mortal relationships don't mix. That's only become clearer to me. I'm bad for you, and you deserve so much better.”
What? Panic filled her chest. What was he saying? “No.”
“Listen to me. You're young. Your whole life is ahead of you. You're going to want children some day, and a husband that will grow old and die with you. I can't give you any of that. All I have to offer you is danger and heartache.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “That's not true. I know we haven't been together that long, but—my time with you has been everything to me. You're my real-life fantasy.”
He shook his head. “Sex is sex. You'll find another spanko now that you know what to ask for. You don't need me for that.”
Fury rushed in her ears. “I see,” she said cuttingly. “So sex is just sex. And that's all I was to you?” Her raised voice sounded shrill to her. She struggled to get off his lap.
He pulled her easily back. “That's not what I meant and you know it. I love you, Kate Strand. I meant it when I said it. And that's why I can't do this to you.” She could feel his agitation growing and it only fueled her own.
“Do what? You can't do what? You can't make me happy by staying with me? You can't just let us enjoy what we have? You think you have the right to make decisions about my future without consulting me?” She was yelling now.
Dom just looked at her sadly, his jaw muscle twitching.
“Let me up,” she said in a deadly quiet tone. “Now.”
He complied.
She finished getting dressed and gathered up her things, making a big show of leaving the key to the Mini Cooper on the bureau.
Dom stood up as well. “No. That car is yours,” he said immediately. “You keep it.”
“I don't need your guilt presents,” she said bitterly.
“Keep. The Fucking. Car.” he said, picking up the key and pushing it into her hand.
“You can't make me!” she screamed, throwing the key across the room.
Dom turned away from her and she heard a half-snarl, a distinctly animal-like sound. He picked up the key and when he turned back she saw his fangs were partially elongated. She should be afraid, but she was too torn up to even care if she was in danger. In fact, she'd be perfectly happy if he just tore her to shreds, because that was what he'd just done to her heart.
He took her wrist and pressed the key into her hand, wrapping her fingers around it.
“Keep the fucking car,” he said again, fiercely. And then a bloody tear rolled down his cheek. “Please,” he added, vulnerability bleeding into his voice. He picked her up by the waist and sat her on the bureau. She tried to push him away, but of course, it was like moving stone.
“Fine!” she said, grinding her teeth.
“Thank you.”
He let her up and she slid off the bureau, swung the door open and walked out, slamming it behind her as hard as she could.
Chapter Twelve
He had to remove the statue of Kate. He used a dolly and carted it off to a corner of his studio, then covered it with a tarp so he didn't have to look at it. Somehow it still had a huge presence, even as a shapeless lump covered with a piece of canvas. He still felt her presence through the covering, as he did everywhere in his house.
The pain was so intense it was unbearable. Not only could he feel every last vibration of her pain, but his own blended with hers, creating a symphony of grief that was so overwhelming he could hardly function. He spent all his time at the club, revamping the accounting system, installing a new inventory method, reorganizing the staff schedule and changing up the entertainment.
He couldn't sleep during the days, and he couldn't sculpt, which left him doing desk and computer work until his eyes turned bloodshot with strain.
He pulled the tarp back off her and stared. She was so beautiful. Someday, when it didn't hurt so badly, he'd be grateful he had this statue to remember her. Then he'd be able to sit and contemplate the short but explosive romance they'd shared. But now was way too raw.
“It's a poor substitute, isn't it?” Fox said.
Go to hell, Fox. He sighed and turned around. “Whatever it is you have to say, I don't want to hear it.”
Fox had his arms folded across his chest and he just nodded, as if he'd expected such a response. “I can keep it in my wing, if you wa—”
“No.” He was being stupid. He didn't want to look at her and be reminded. But he didn't want Fox to have her, either. Even if having her just meant looking at her image in marble.
“When is the last time you felt this way about someone?” Fox asked with a casual tone that he wasn't buying.
Never. “I don't know. Look, it's because I feel something for her that I had to end it. Not that I owe you any explanation.”
“In your 520 years, how often has something like this come up?”
“Fuck you, Fox.”
“No, really. I honestly want to know. Because I'm not sure it ever has for me. I cared about Randolph when we were together, but I don't think I loved him enough. If I did, I would've been faithful.”
“I'm protecting her,” he said savagely.
“No,” Fox said. “That's not true. You're protecting yourself.”
He stared at Fox, anger surging through him.
“You know what I think?” Fox challenged. “I think you're a coward. Neither you nor Kate deserves this pain you've created out of your own cowardice.” With that, Fox turned and strode out of the room.
He stared after him, the anger draining till he felt nothing but emptiness.
* * *
She refused to play at No Return anymore. Fox didn't pressure her, he could sing lead for the Morphs for a lot of their songs, and was so good at playing any cover song he felt like, that they could play without her.
For two weeks her heart had felt like she was wearing a corset around her chest. She now understood that the word heartache was aptly named. Her heart literally pained her—so much so that she wondered briefly if she ought to see a cardiologist. She moved through her days doing the bare minimum she needed to get by. Taught her piano lessons, rehearsed with the Morphs, played at Club Congress on Saturday nights.
She spent the evenings going for hikes in the desert. It was still unbearably hot, but the monsoons had arrived, and the hour before sundown became her time to get out and commune with nature, trying in vain to ease her agitated state. She'd planned a hike that evening up Tumamoc Hill with her friend Kelly.
“Hey,” Kate said heavily, when she picked Kelly up.
“Hi.” Kelly was good about just honoring her depressed state without expressing the sympathy that would cause her to burst into tears. Kate felt like she could just “be” with her—talk about her feelings if she wanted, or not, as the mood struck her.
Tumamoc Hill was a steep hike that was very close to where she lived. They kept a brisk pace, which left her fairly winded. After a while, her senses felt nourished by the smell of creosote and the bloom of little green shoots, nurtured into life by the recent monsoons. Finally she spoke. “The thing that's stupid about all this, is that we were only together for two months. I don't understand why I'm so broken up about it.”
“It doesn't matter. You feel what you feel, you don't need to start judging yourself for your feelings.”
The clouds were starting to build for a monsoon. The air had an electric feeling and they could see lightening on the far east side of town. They picked up their pace.
“I'm late,” she confessed, keeping her eyes fixed on the wall of black clouds that was getting closer by the minute.
Kelly stopped walking. “Have you taken a test?”
“No. He said he wasn't able to have kids, so it seems like a fluke.”
“He's had a vasectomy?”
“Um, yeah.” She didn't like lying to Kelly, but explaining that her ex-boyfriend was a vampire would be too difficult, even if Fox hadn't made it impossible for her to do.
“Well, even vasectomies are only 99 percent effective. You should take a test, just to be sure. Then it's one less thing you have to dwell on right now.”
“Okay,” she sighed.
“Let's pick one up on the way home and you can do it while I'm there. Unless you want to be alone.”
“No, I'd like you to be there. Thanks.”
They finished the rest of the hike in relative silence, making it back to the Mini Cooper as the first huge drops started to pelt down. She drove in a torrential downpour, the wipers moving at their highest speed without making a dent in the sheets of warm water on the windshield. She stopped at Walgreens and got soaked running in to pick up an EPT test kit.
They sat in the car to wait for the rain to let up before they drove to her house. She cracked open the box and read the directions as they fogged up the windows with their breath and heat inside the car. The directions said it was best to use the first pee of the morning, but now
that she'd bought a test and Kelly was there, she wasn't about to wait.
“Any thoughts or feelings on what you might do if you are?” Kelly asked.
She sighed and tears burned her eyes. “I'd keep it. I've wanted to be a mother my whole life. Even this way. And it's not like he wouldn't pay child support, or whatever. He's loaded,” she said bitterly.
The monsoon passed as quickly as it had come, and she started the car and drove home. Kelly came in and she peed on the stick. And waited the long two minutes. A plus sign appeared. Pregnant. She handed it wordlessly to Kelly, who simply opened her arms to give her a hug. “I'm sorry, sugar,” Kelly said. “Or congratulations. Whichever feels more appropriate.”
* * *
Dom woke to the sound of his own voice crying out. He looked at the clock. He had slept late—it was 6:50 pm. There was a savage wrenching in his gut—much more intense than the dull one that had been there for the past two weeks since he broke things off with Kate. And it was coming from her. His connection with her should have weakened after two weeks without her blood, but he felt it clearly. What could have happened to upset her more?
The fact was, it was none of his business. Except that his own body was going haywire with the stress of experiencing it second hand. And except that he still felt fiercely protective of her. She was playing at Club Congress tonight. He could flash over and just make sure everything was all right. Not that he had any right to comfort or help. But at least he would know.
He passed the next several hours sweating, pacing and even throwing a few things as he waited until ten o'clock. He flashed into a dark corner of the parking lot and walked into the old hotel. The Morphs were playing already, he could hear the sound pumping from the club. He paid the cover charge and went in, nudging his way through the crowd until he found a place he could get a good look at Kate.
