by Elisa Adams
“But she’s not now. She’s Panthicenos, like Eric.”
Interesting. “What if you could have someone who’d truly be your equal? Someone who treated you like the independent woman you are and not some little girl who can’t take care of herself? Someone who would love you with all his heart and soul, but not try to stifle you.”
She snorted. “If that person existed, I’d be all over him in a second.”
She was.
He let out a pained laugh. He might be overprotective at times, but he’d never try to change her. Not in a million years. His life had gotten so much more interesting with her in it.
“Can I ask you a question now?” she asked.
“Yeah. Ask whatever you want.”
She lifted her head off his chest and rolled to her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “You said your wife killed herself, right?”
He nodded.
“Is that why you became a vampire?”
He considered lying just to save himself from the emotional drain the story would cause, but Merida deserved better than that. He needed to tell her everything, so there were no secrets between them.
“No. Sarah ran off with my brother, Marco. We all thought he’d died, but he hadn’t. He’d been turned. He’d wanted Sarah, and he’d done all he could to get her. She begged him to turn her, and he did.”
Royce drew a deep breath and willed himself to continue. He’d never shared the full story with another being, not even Wil. He shuddered as he spoke. “She didn’t handle it. Some people just don’t. Her body couldn’t take the change. It shut down. Slowly. I’ve heard it’s a painful process, organs slowly failing, muscles cramping. It must have been horrible for her. I’d found a vampire and begged him to turn me so I could try to win Sarah back. But by the time I’d found her, it had been too late. She’d taken her own life.”
Merida cupped his jaw in her palm, her eyes filled with sadness. “I’m so sorry. Wil turned you, didn’t he?” she asked, surprising him.
“Yes. How did you know that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just had a feeling.”
“Yeah, he turned me. Things were a lot different for vampires then. There weren’t so many laws, no modern police. Wil fed my anger, and I let him. I went a little nuts after Sarah died. I hated her, I hated Marco. I hated the world. But most of all, I hated myself. I must not have been the best husband if she felt the need to leave. I wish I could remember more about that time of my life, but as time passes the memories fade.” He laughed bitterly. “The time after she died, though—I don’t want to remember any of that.”
Times hadn’t been the best, and he’d done some things that ashamed him. If he laid it all out, told her his story and she still accepted him, he’d know the possibility of a future between them still existed.
She came back to him and rested her chin on his chest, her arms coming around his sides. “Whatever you have to say, say it. I’ll understand.”
“I took it out my anger on anything and everything I could get my hands on.” He kissed the top of her head, then lifted her chin with his thumb and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of. Things changed for a little while when I went to work for Sam, but then the old life sucked me right back in. I was a mess, and Sam didn’t want me hanging around in that condition.”
“I thought you left on your own because you couldn’t handle the killing aspect of the job.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Is that what he told you?” He softened his tone, not wanting to upset her. She was strong, but everyone had their limits. “Trust me, Merida. I had no problem with the killing aspect. What I had a problem with was deciding who my real friends were. Wil had been there for me in the beginning, even though he wasn’t the best influence on me at the time, and I felt a lot of loyalty to him.”
He felt her stiffen against him. “You chose Wil over Sam. Over the rest of us.”
“It’s not like that. Sam wanted me to leave. He wanted me away from you, Merida.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I thought you said you didn’t even remember me when we met again.”
“I barely did. I didn’t think much in those days. My mind had shut down. I had to get away from everything for a while, get my head on straight. It took some time, but I eventually got my act together. Got back into healing. Eventually I did the whole medical school thing. I guess it just took me a little longer than most to sow my wild oats.”
“You don’t seem like that now. I could never see you being nasty.”
“Like I said, it was another lifetime ago. I’m sure you understand.”
“Better than most.”
He shifted under her in discomfort. When she stared down at him, it felt like she could see right into his soul. “I’ve never told anyone any of that.”
“Why did you choose to tell me?”
“Because I knew you, of all people, wouldn’t judge me for it. That’s what I like about you. You’re so caring and understanding. Very maternal.” He felt the need to lighten the mood before things got too heavy.
She pinched his side. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m a regular mother hen.”
She’d be surprised, but sometimes that was exactly how he saw her. She cared more than she would admit to anyone. And maybe she didn’t even realize it herself. “I’m sorry,” he told her softly.
She frowned at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “For what?”
“Being a royal pain in the ass since we met up again.”
“Do me a favor. Don’t stop.”
That was a surprise. “Why?”
“I kind of like you just the way you are. I like a challenge.”
“Believe me, sweetheart, I’m no challenge as far as you’re concerned.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her knuckles.
“Oh, but you are. We clash sometimes.”
He had to laugh at that one. “But we make up well.”
“We never used to. You couldn’t stand me.”
“Are you sure? I told you I barely even remember you.”
“But I remember you.” She tucked her head back against his shoulder, he suspected to hide her eyes deliberately from him.
“What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“I had a huge crush on you. Way back then, like three hundred and fifty years ago or something.”
His heart hitched in anticipation and his breath caught in his throat. “What about now?”
“Now? Oh, it’s more than a crush.” She punctuated her semi-playful words with little pokes of her fingernails into his sides.
“How much more?” he winced as she got him between a couple of ribs.
“No classifications, remember? We’re just going to go with the flow.”
He flung his head back and groaned. He should have known his words would come back to haunt him. “Yeah, I remember. But what happens if I change my mind? What if I want to classify this…thing as something?”
She shrugged, but he could feel the tension slipping from her. “Too bad.”
They’d see about that. He’d do whatever it took to convince her otherwise.
“Merida?”
She didn’t answer. He listened to her low, deep breathing and glanced down. She was fast asleep. He pulled away from her and stood, picking up her pants and panties before he lifted her off the floor and carried her toward his bedroom. They still needed to discuss the Aparasei and what to do about it, but after the conversation they’d had he felt a little drained himself. Daylight would come before he knew it. It might not hurt to get a few extra hours of sleep.
* * * * *
Merida sat at the kitchen table the early next afternoon, a coffee mug clutched in her hands, mulling over the conversation she’d had with Royce last night. Or had it been early this morning? With the irregular sleeping patterns around here, she couldn’t keep anything straight. She took a long sip of the steaming drink, her mind stuck on Royce and
all he’d told her. He’d opened up, been completely honest about things she’d been surprised to hear him say. But he was right. She wouldn’t judge him for what he’d done. If he said he’d changed, she believed it. Living for hundreds of years usually turned out to be like living several lifetimes.
She set the mug down on the tabletop and ran a hand through her hair, trying to untangle some of the curls, still damp from her recent shower. She hadn’t been awake long—only an hour or so—and already she wanted to go back to bed. With Royce. When she’d woken up in his bed this morning, with his arms wrapped protectively around her, her first instinct was to bolt. But she stayed, letting herself work through the fear, and finally settled back against him with a tentative sense of tranquility. Because of their open conversation, she felt more at ease with him than she ever had. Now he seemed like a real person to her and not just another man out to show her he was stronger or better than she was. He didn’t do that to her. At least not often. She loved that about him. She needed…
Damn it. She didn’t need the guy.
But she wanted him. More than she’d ever imagine. And for more than just sex—though that did play a pretty big part in her decision. She loved the sex, but it helped a lot that she loved the man, too.
What she’d said to him about Wil…she hoped he knew she’d been kidding. She’d seen the jealousy in his eyes and didn’t want to come between a friendship so lasting. She’d only wanted to turn him on. Maybe she’d gone a little too far. She laughed weakly and shook her head, bringing the mug to her lips again. All the sex must be getting to her, turning her brain to mush. Sex, love, and annoyingly perfect—or perfectly annoying—vampires had to wait.
The main problem here, the Aparasei, needed to be dealt with first. Soon, before someone else got hurt. She should have figured something out last night, but after finding the message written on the wall she hadn’t been in the right state of mind. She should have insisted she and Royce discuss ways to get rid of the evil being, but he’d offered her a distraction and she’d been weak enough to take it. Not for the first time, she questioned Sam’s decision to let her stay on the job for so long when she was so obviously incompetent.
She stood up and put her half-full mug in the sink, her appetite for caffeine gone. When she turned, Wil stood in the kitchen doorway, his expression flat. He blinked at her and shook his head. “We’re too late.”
“What happened?”
He stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out a chair, dropping into it. He let out a rough sigh. “Michelle is dead.”
“What?” Her heart stopped, her stomach lurching to her throat. “What happened?”
He swallowed convulsively. “A friend of hers found her on her living room floor. She went over this morning when Michelle didn’t show up for work. She died sometime last night.”
A chill ran through her. Michelle might have been lying there dead when they were right next door. “How did she die?”
“I don’t know. The only thing he told me is that they’re looking at it as a homicide. The chief won’t give me details.”
“Why not?”
The hair on the back of her neck rose at the feral look in his eyes. “Probably because I’m a suspect.”
Merida pulled out another chair and sat down, facing him across the table. He refused to meet her eyes. “That makes no sense. You were at work last night. You have a solid alibi.”
He shook his head, his intense gaze snagging hers and holding. “I didn’t go back to work last night. After you and Royce left, I didn’t go back.”
She gulped. This didn’t sound very good. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t hurt Michelle, if that’s what you mean. I would never hurt her. I sat in the car, watching her house and trying to debate a few things.”
“Like what?” Murder, maybe?
“Like leaving town. Starting over again. I’ve been here too long anyway.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes never leaving hers. “If I’d seen the problems with her sooner, I might have been able to save her. She had her issues, but she didn’t deserve to die.”
“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.” She wanted to scold him for being so stupid about Michelle in the first place, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He must be going through hell, and as dumb as she thought he’d been to the whole situation, she couldn’t add to his pain by pointing it out.
“She was the wrong person to get involved with,” he told her, shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d just told her no the first time she’d asked me out, she wouldn’t be dead now.”
Merida placed her hand over his. “That’s not true. This has nothing to do with you. The Aparasei killed her. It’s too much of a coincidence that the other murders took place just next door.” She frowned. She’d assumed the woman Calusius referred to in her dream was Michelle. But he hadn’t taken Michelle. He may have killed her instead.
Wil pulled out of her grasp and slowly got up from the chair, looking tired and pained. “I’ve got to go down to the police station. The chief has a couple of questions for me.”
“You work for him. He knows what kind of a man you are. Why would he even suspect you’re capable of this?”
He shrugged. “People talk. I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity around here. Have you seen my keys?”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon. You can’t drive. You won’t be able to handle the sun for that long. You’ll get into an accident.”
“Royce is going to drive me in. I already asked him. He’s upstairs getting changed.”
Not if he wanted to come back in one piece. “Bullshit. Neither one of you is going to endanger your lives. I can handle the sun just fine. I’ll drive. You can both sit in back and sleep for all I care.”
Wil blinked at her, his gaze uncertain, as if he wasn’t used to people being nice to him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Actually, if you insist on going somewhere at this time of day, I think I do.”
Royce walked into the room then, before she could tell Wil to stop being such an arrogant jerk and accept a little help, and handed her his car keys. “I’d greatly appreciate you driving. We both would.”
Wil threw his hands in the air in defeat before rustling through a pile of mail on the counter. He finally located his key ring and stuffed it into his pocket. “Okay. Fine. I’m ready to go. Just drive carefully, okay?”
Knowing he must be upset over Michelle’s death, she decided not to give him a hard time. She followed Royce and Wil out the front door.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the small brick building that housed the Caswell PD. “Wait here,” Wil said as he climbed out of the back seat and walked toward the glass door. His shoulders hunched as he pulled the door open and disappeared inside.
Royce, sitting beside her in the passenger seat, put his hand on Merida’s knee. “What do you think of all this?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I think your friend could be in some pretty big trouble.”
“How do you figure?”
“He and Michelle had dated, then had a spat where he says he threatened her—who knows who she might have told about that, and exactly what she said. He didn’t go back to work last night, but he didn’t check in with anyone, either, so he has no alibi. And you know as well as I do, in a situation like this, a husband or lover is usually pretty high on the suspect list. You know they’re never going to find the real killer for any of the recent murders. Wil would be convenient to blame.”
He shifted in the car seat. “I didn’t think of all that. If they suspect him, I don’t know what he’s planning to do.”
“Trust me, he’ll be a suspect. Men are more prone to violent tendencies. At least, that’s what the so-called studies lead us to believe.” She knew differently, but she also knew there was a big difference between human women and women of other…races. She’d run across a few females who would make an ordinary human male’s blood curdle.
“Yeah, so they say.” He leaned back even further and closed his eyes. “I hope he has a plan to get out of here fast, or else there could be some serious complications.”
Merida nodded. She understood completely. If Wil was arrested, he wouldn’t be able to feed. That would either kill him, or drive him insane.
Wil walked out of the station a few minutes later, a scowl on his face. He pulled his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on as he walked to the car and slid into the back seat. “Let’s go. I need to get out of here.”
Royce turned around to face Wil. “What happened?”
“What happened? What do you think happened?” He leaned back in the seat and turned toward the window. “We’ll talk about it later. Now I just want to sleep.”
He closed his eyes and stayed silent for the ten minute ride back to his house, but Merida had a feeling sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t open his eyes until she’d pulled Royce’s car into the driveway and switched off the ignition.
When they got inside the house, Wil headed for the stairs without a word to Merida or Royce. She grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving the room.
“What?” He tried to brush her hand away. “It’s over now. You should be happy.”
“It isn’t over. Not even close.”
He just snorted and brushed past her into the living room. Royce tried to hold her back, but she ducked out of his grasp and followed Wil.
Royce walked past her, shooting her a warning glare, before stopping in front of Wil. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Michelle is dead. At this point, I’m pretty high on the suspect list—for as the chief called it, suspicious behavior. I quit, turned in my formal resignation today, so now’s a good a time as any to get the hell out of here.”
Royce shook his head. “You can’t leave yet. This isn’t over, no matter what you might think.”
“My part in it is.” The look in his eyes told a completely different story.
Merida walked up next to Royce, her hands on her hips. If he thought to call Royce here for help and then leave them stranded, he had another think coming. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think you’re the type to give up in the middle of an investigation.”