by Jackie Ivie
“Oh. No. No. Come on. Give me a break. You’re already major sexy, Anso. But...um. Fangs? You have to actually have fangs?”
“Yes.”
“Well. We’re just going to have to talk about that now, too, aren’t we?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you have fangs!”
“Of course I have them. I am a vampire,” Anso told her.
“Oh, no. No. Please? Can’t you be something original? Like...a Succubus?”
“There is no such thing.”
“There is no such thing as a vampire, either.”
“You say that when you are with one?”
“Just because...you can grow fangs...doesn’t mean anything. Okay? It means you’re suffering...um. It’s commonly known as Renfield’s Syndrome. But that’s just...a manifestation of Schizophrenia. It’s not...real.”
She had distinct pauses throughout the words. Her eyelids dropped slightly. Her lips parted. Sweet breath touched him. The bed was vibrating with a series of tremors that didn’t just come from him.
“Le...ah.”
He pulled the name from his depths. Bass tones resounded through the chamber. Her voice was a breathless hint of sound when she answered.
“Man. Oh, man. Do I...have the best imagination...in the world...or what?”
Her head fell back; displaying the purplish spots hadn’t healed from where he’d punctured her throat before. They throbbed ever so slightly with her pulse. Anso studied them for a span. And then he pressed his mouth to hers.
And let her take this time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’m still here?
What did that make it? A day? Two? A week? It was impossible to tell time. There didn’t seem to be any windows.
Leah lifted her head from the mattress, and viewed the carnage of what had been pristine silken sheets. She focused on the ermine-trimmed, embroidered damask coverlet for a moment. It didn’t look to have sustained any damage – any further damage anyway – and nothing of an irreparable nature. Either way, it shouldn’t matter. This was just a Psychotic Delirium, but she still felt a sense of relief to know they hadn’t ruined a priceless piece of medieval art, even if it was all in her head.
She looked out farther, taking in the room. Most of the candles were on the floor, in various stages of illumination. She could see now that they weren’t real. There were little LED lights in their centers, some were still flickering. It was dim, but that didn’t hamper her vision. She could easily see. A lot. And with perfect precision. As if she viewed things through telescopic lenses that adjusted at her whim. She’d been right. There weren’t any windows. A lot of material covered the walls, in lengths of unbroken silver. It was echoed in the furniture. She picked out a chaise lounge chair. Two sofas. A loveseat. White wooden tables accented the setting. It looked elegant. Cold and aloof. As if it awaited the presence of a king.
Like Anso.
She didn’t have to guess where he was. His weight compressed the mattress, making a well in the midst of the bed. She’d been sucked into it. She’d have a hard time moving away. She had her back to him, spooned in place, while one of his legs and an arm wrapped about her, as if making certain of her proximity.
This was so crazy. Nice, but crazy. She’d really like to stay here. Enjoy it. But that depended on the man holding her so tightly. And how reasonable he was willing to be. She didn’t know if he was sleeping. He didn’t snore. He didn’t make any sound at all. She decided to test it.
“Anso?”
“Yes?”
The instant reply answered that question. He wasn’t sleeping.
Leah rolled onto her back. His arms flexed to allow it. She looked up at him. Her heart dropped. Her breath caught. Her throat closed off. All physiological omens of something bad. She’d been afraid Anso would ruin her sex life with a real male in the real world. Falling in love with him would be beyond stupid. That was bound to give her a Dissociative Disorder. She’d need pharmaceutical treatment. Years of therapy. She’d have to quit her practice. Sell her condo. Change her phone number. Cancel her social networking accounts...
“You are very beautiful this morning.”
Shit.
Her heart reacted with a thud that lodged it in her throat. Or something as powerful. It hurt to swallow.
“How do you know it’s morning?” she asked.
He smiled. “Instinct. Preservation. Experience.”
“You could just put in windows.”
“Sunlight is not a good idea.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Vampires—”
She interrupted him. “Don’t do the vampirism thing again, Anso? Please? I feel too good. It’s too soon. We can make it a ground rule. No mention of vampires. Or blood-letting. Or Succubus. Or...mental break-downs. Okay? Can we agree on that, at least? Please?”
His lips twisted. She caught her breath in the event he grew fangs. Nothing happened for long moments. Except their breathing. The sound of their hearts beating. In perfect sync. She needed to stop envisioning that particular affectation. It was too weird.
“You feel good?” he finally asked.
“You are so gorgeous,” she answered.
One of his eyebrows lifted, and he glanced away. His cheeks darkened as if he flushed.
Her canine teeth tingled oddly.
Leah ran her tongue along her upper teeth, and then chided herself for the instant need to check. Nothing was out of order. Everything felt exactly normal...in her mouth, anyway.
Anso turned back to her, affecting her without doing a thing. Leah’s heart gave another couple of quick beats. Damn thing.
”My appearance...pleases you?”
“Well. Yeah. And then some.”
“Some?”
“Yeah. As in...some more.”
“More?”
Leah sighed. “And here I didn’t think you suffered a Narcissistic Disorder.”
He narrowed his eyes. His long dark lashes shadowed the light in them. That sent a rocket-load of sensation shooting through her innards. Leah’s eyes widened.
“I do not understand,” he told her.
“You’ve never heard of Narcissus? And Echo? The Greek legend?”
He shook his head.
“Really? Fine. I’ll explain. Narcissus was a major babe in Ancient Greek mythology. He was totally hung up on himself. Wasted away staring at his image. Beautiful men are usually well aware of the fact they are beautiful. I’ve been with some, not nearly as handsome as you, but the signs are easy to recognize. They constantly check themselves out. You know...like in mirrors. Store windows. Anyplace with a reflection.”
His expression cleared. And then he grinned. The rocket within her started spewing sparks. She tightened inner muscles against it.
“I do not have a reflection, lioban. But is it true? You find me thus?”
“Oh, brother. Since you’re fictitious, I can say what I like, right? But don’t push it. I’m not a fan of ego-stroking...but here goes. You have the kind of looks that stop traffic. Your body would shame a Grecian statue. And you’re amazing in the sack, too.”
“The sack?”
“What kind of lingo do they speak here? You don’t know what that means, either?”
He shook his head.
“It means bed. And...any other place you can make love.”
His grin widened. No fangs in sight.
Good.
”Ah. You speak of the act semantwist. And the wonder. I agree. You are also...amazing in the sack.”
He ran his forefinger down her arm, lifting shivers. Leah looked at his finger and then back to his gaze. She’d been right. He had extremely dark, sable brown eyes, the color of his hair. Her heart gave another lurch. This was ridiculous.
“Nice,” she finally replied.
“I must tell you, Leah. It is because you are my weibchan.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course it is.”
His finger stopped moving. “You know
what that means?”
“Nope.”
“I need to tell you...but I am a bit...hesitant.”
“You? Hesitant?”
He nodded.
“Okay. I can look it up later.”
“Look it up?”
“Oh. Come on. For the love of—! You don’t know what that means either?”
“I am a ninth-century Germanic warlord, lioban. Your tone is an insult. If you were not my weibchan and beloved above measure, there would be consequences.”
He’d gone still. Taut. Every muscle she could feel was rigid. The man looked feral and something else. He looked pretty damned scary. The sparks that had been shooting through her subsided, banked by his change in expression. Leah’s eyes went so wide the air hurt. She blinked some moisture onto them before managing a swallow. Grasped at a straw.
“Come on, Anso. This is just too weird for me. You’re saying you’re what? Twelve hundred years old?”
“I will use your phrase. Yes, and then some,” he replied.
“You are seriously expecting me to believe you’re from the time of – oh! I don’t know? Charlemagne?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Anso. Please. This is just too much. I mean, I was willing to accept that I’m suffering a hallucination on a grand scale. I was even willing to go Psychotic Delusion! But, no. Just no. You don’t look a day past thirty-five.”
“That is because I am a vampire.”
“Damn it! That was a ground rule! Don’t you obey the slightest thing?”
He lifted his upper lip in something that resembled a snarl, perfectly fitting the impression of bestiality. His look sent heat. All kinds of primitive emotions. She didn’t find it remotely frightening, either. Everything on her body went alert. But damn everything! He had fangs again.
“All right! That’s it. No fangs. That’s a clear violation.”
“Le...ah.”
He broke her name in two like before with a lot of volume. The sound rattled more of the candles and something wooden creaked ominously. Leah pushed his arm and leg aside and sat up. Weird. Her abdomen muscles responded instantly and with a lot more strength than normal.
“Whatever that is supposed to do, it’s broken. Okay? You’ve got a great voice. You know how to project it. All signs of Histrionic Disorder, by-the-way, but I am a little too hyped-up at the moment. Despite an ability that should have you on a stage somewhere, I am not amused. And you can just come out of the threatening stance, too. I don’t allow that kind of thing in my life.”
“I would never hurt you, lioban.”
He was beside her instantly, breathing with harsh gusts of air that matched hers. His eyes were tender. Warm. And looked nothing like an angry man. Her heart hurt. Her head wasn’t far behind. Great. Just great, Leah. This delusion was taking a major downturn. That wasn’t fair. This was her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to deal with falling in love with a fictitious man – one who not only could demonstrate physical vampiric traits, which wasn’t even possible for Schizophrenia – but might have just exhibited classic signs of Manic Depressive Disorder, too?
Oh shit.
What was wrong with her? She did not just think of love! Oh no. No. No, Leah. She didn’t feel anything like that for Anso. Just. No.
A loud ringing sound split the silence that followed his statement. It was followed by the sound of wood splitting. Leah watched as one of his tables fell. The bed bounced, tilting the view, as Anso bolted from it.
“Where are you going?”
“That is the Sat phone. I must answer it.”
“You have a satellite phone?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Yes.”
He disappeared through a dark span of gloom that was an obvious doorway before she had a chance to ask why he didn’t know what an online search meant if he had a Sat phone. Her mind was having trouble linking the words, anyway. He wasn’t wearing anything and that view was something she’d never seen before. And pretty damn nice. Somewhere in college, she’d learned that the Ancient Greeks had run their Olympic races in the nude.
Hmm.
It was easy to see why.
Anso reappeared before she’d finished the thought, a large phone in his hand. She watched him punch some buttons. Blinked a couple of times in semi-disbelief. Not only at his speed – which she should be used to by now – but the man hadn’t donned a scrap of fabric. The view from this side was even nicer than watching him running. He stuck the phone to his ear.
“Yes?”
‘Hello! Is this Anso?’
Oh. Looked like more weirdness was on her plate this morning – if it was even really morning. She could hear the caller’s voice. Easily. Clearly. It was a young male and he was rushing through his words. Or...he was from New York. She had several patients who hailed from New York. They all spoke in a rapid-fire fashion.
‘You took forever to answer, man. You are Anso? Yes? Come on, man! Speak up!’
“Yes,” Anso replied.
‘Great. Look. Nigel Beethan here. That won’t mean anything to you. You’ve probably never even heard of me.’
“No.”
‘Okay. Well, I’m a Beethan, and one of the Hunter Beethan’s, but I’m not a Beethan Hunter. Clear as mud?’
“No. I mean yes.”
‘Forget it! Listen. I’m Akron’s assistant. I run the desk sometimes.’
“Oh.”
‘You really know how to fill airspace with words, don’t you?’
“What?” Anso asked.
‘Forget it. Not important. Look! I have a really big problem on my hands and a very small window of opportunity here. You’re six foot five? Right?’
“I am...not certain,” Anso replied.
‘But you’re a big guy, right? Your file sketch puts you at six foot five – maybe six foot six, and you look close to two hundred and...ninety, maybe?’
“Pounds?”
‘Well...yeah. Duh.’
Anso didn’t like the fellow’s tone. She watched him straighten. Flex a few muscles. Tighten more of them. It lifted a few things. The view was really incredible. Leah sighed. He sent a glance her way. Flushed again. Went back to his call. She was hard-put not to giggle.
“I am nineteen-and-a-half stone.”
Six foot six – and whatever nineteen-and-a-half stone calculated to – looked really good to her. And here she’d thought Steve’s firefighter brother was a god-among-mankind at six foot two and maybe two hundred.
‘Oh. Geez. Old farts! Ask a simple question; get a messed-up, archaic, non-calculable answer. The record says you were some kind of tribal warlord. Changed in 810. Right?’
“Yes.”
Leah gasped. It wasn’t audible. And it was stupid. Anso’s answer fit what he’d told her. It shouldn’t be a surprise. She was in a delusionary hallucination. Things that happened should all add up. But the youthful male voice just kept spouting things she didn’t have the imagination to conjure up.
‘It also says you were changed during a battle. Right? So...that means you’re in the battle condition? Fit? Yes?’
“Yes.”
‘Sweet! Look, we’ve got an associate in trouble—!’
“Get someone else,” Anso interrupted in a commanding tone. One used to getting obeyed.
‘There is no one else!’
“So?”
‘Come on, buddy. Didn’t you hear me? I’m running the desk!’
“So?” Anso repeated.
‘I need you to do something. How about if I make it an order?’
“No.”
Leah’s eyebrows rose higher at the insubordinate word and Anso’s tone.
‘Come on. Please? I’m begging here. You have to do it!’
“I cannot.”
‘Cannot? Or will not?’
Anso looked across at her. His eyes glowed dark red again. An instant sense of warmth bloomed within her, as if the earlier sparks received an infusion of air. Leah had a difficult time gaining her next breath, and even
then it was ragged. Raw.
“I have found my mate,” Anso said.
Leah jerked. Her jaw dropped. Her heart pounded so loudly she almost missed the follow-up words. Her mind raced through possible explanations. Anso didn’t mean that word the way it sounded. No. He couldn’t. He was using the word to mean physical joining. He did not mean lifetime companionship. That had to be the answer here.
The alternative was beyond frightening.
Because...if she’d somehow crossed into a fourth dimension, and Anso was a real vampire, would that mean the word mating meant eternal companionship?
‘Crap. Crap. Double crap. How far have you gone?’
“She is not fully changed, if that is your question.”
Anso might be speaking to the caller, but he was looking directly at her, leaving Leah no doubt whatsoever who he was addressing the answers to.
‘So she’s half? So sorry, man. You’ll have to leave her. That will be better, actually. It could be dangerous.’
“You expect me to leave my mate?”
Anso was watching her as he said it. His look sent all kinds of signals her body had no trouble reading. All completely insane. Warmth enveloped her. Oh! If only she could shut her mind off and just go with the physical realm here! She wanted to...but, no. This was too much. She might have to do a complete paradigm shift. Evaluate things from a new perspective. Consider the unreasonable, despite how impossible it seemed.
This entire episode might be real.
It could actually be happening.
The warmth slowly dissipated, leaving her shaky. Cold. This was bad. At least if she’d gone insane, she knew what to do. There was a chance of recovery in her future. And the young male voice just kept adding more insanity to the mix.
‘You have to! You’re old enough to have immunity to daylight and the weather satellite shows...crap. Crap. Crap. I’m not catching much of a break here. You’re getting high clouds. Slight chance of rain. She’ll be safer where she is. Come on, man! Please? I’ll do anything. Please?’
Anso sighed heavily. “Who is my target?”
‘It’s not a hit. We have a rogue. He’s my responsibility...and damn me for being too blind not to see that trap before it sprang shut on me!’
“Is it Hunters?”
‘I wish. Look. I’m sending details to your laptop. Airwaves are not secure enough for this. There! Done. Do this for me, man and I will so owe you. You have no idea...’