by J. A. London
“Not all of us are shortsighted,” I say.
“Enough of you are.” Victor immediately closes his eyes, maybe wishing he could take that back. It’s a reminder that he’s immortal and I’m not. Shortsighted for him can be measured in decades instead of weeks.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “The Thirst is an issue, but it’s a vampire issue. The citizens won’t support me, and I need their blood to keep the Thirst at bay. If I can keep Clive focused on the Day Walkers, then he can rid the city of them. With that, the citizens will feel safe; they’ll start giving blood again.”
A part of me agrees with him, but if we’re not prepared for the Thirst, how can we defeat it when it gets here? How can we worry about the rain when the tidal wave is right outside our door? We should be building sand barriers, not patching holes in our roof. I guess that’s why I’m heading out west.
“Are you still having those nightmares?” he asks, maybe attempting to change the subject.
“I don’t know that I’d really call it a nightmare. It’s just kind of creepy. But yeah, it seems to be the only thing I dream about these days.” That and you. I twist around in my seat so I can see him more clearly. “I went through my father’s things at the Agency archives and snuck a few of them out. I found the symbol.”
He perks up at that. “What does it mean?”
“He wasn’t sure. Some sort of name, maybe. Or it symbolized all the families. I’ve got his stuff stashed in my room. It’d be great if you’d come look at it. Maybe you can figure it out.”
“I told you. I don’t know Ancient Vampiric.”
I hear his words, but I know what he’s really saying is that he doesn’t trust himself to be alone with me in my bedroom.
“You know, you’re not as irresistible as you think,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Is that a challenge?”
“I’m just trying to figure out this stupid dream, Victor, so it’ll go away. Do you know how boring it is to dream the same thing over and over?”
“Vampires don’t dream.”
“But you told me you do.”
His grin widens. I’ve always loved his smiles. They don’t appear very often, but when they do, they’re incredible. “All I dream about is you. Over and over. And it’s not boring at all.”
I feel the warmth of a blush creeping over my face and down my neck. With my blood rising to the surface, his smile diminishes.
“Please, Victor, just take a look. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t make the same promise.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.” I can’t believe that when I left the Agency I was angry with him and now I’m flirting with him. Could our relationship be any more complex?
“Bad idea,” he mutters under his breath as he pulls the car to a stop outside my apartment building. He turns off the car and faces me, studies me, and I know a battle is raging within him.
“Five minutes,” he finally snaps. “That’s all I can spare.”
I grin in triumph. “That’s all I need.”
The apartment has that quiet, empty feeling when we step into it. “I guess Rachel is still at the Agency,” I say. Just in case she returns before Victor leaves in five minutes, I write her a note and stick it on the fridge: I’m home, safe, sound, asleep.
“Why the note?” Victor asks.
“A precaution. She wouldn’t be happy to discover a vampire in my bedroom.”
“I told you—”
“I know. Five minutes. Come on.”
In my bedroom, I close the door and turn on a lamp. I always feel a need for low lighting when Victor is around, a way to make him feel more comfortable. Vampires live in the shadows. Well, except for Sin and his newly minted minions.
I go to my closet, move a few things around, and pull out the box that I hid in the back. I don’t know why I felt such a strong need to keep the contents secret. It’s not just because I took them without permission. Something about my father’s findings bother me. I think they may be more important than he realized.
By the time I turn back to the room, Victor has removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves to reveal his amazing forearms. He’s slender but powerful. Instead of sifting through these aging documents, I want to brush my fingers over his hair, his jaw, his shoulders. I’m already regretting my promise to keep my hands to myself, but I’m not going to break it. Clearing my throat, I carry the box to my desk. “Okay.”
I lift the lid, acutely aware of him standing behind me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his body, his breath wafting across my neck. I force myself to concentrate on the reason I wanted him here so I don’t spin around into his embrace. I’ve never understood this immense attraction between us, but it’s been there from the beginning. Even when I was with Michael, something about Victor called to me. It filled me with guilt at the time, and that aspect hasn’t diminished. He’s pure temptation, an apple I shouldn’t bite.
I force my fingers not to tremble as I locate the document that my father thought was a contract. I spread it on the desk and iron it out with my palms, realizing that’s a bad idea because they’ve become damp. I don’t want to ruin or compromise his work. “See these fourteen symbols over here? My dad thought they represented the Fourteen Families.”
“He’s right.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Victor’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I didn’t think you read Ancient Vampiric.”
“But I know my family’s name when I see it.” He places his finger beneath the first symbol. “That’s Valentine.”
A strum of excitement goes through me. It’s a beginning. “Are you sure?”
Holding my gaze, he issues a challenge and starts unbuttoning his shirt. I watch as his fingers nimbly release each pearl disc. He shrugs out of his shirt and my breath hitches. I’ve never seen his bare chest, but my imagination envisioned him with uncanny accuracy. Although he can’t bask in the sunlight, he’s not milky white. His skin has a natural bronze tint to it. Most Old Family do. It made it easier for them to blend in with us, to camouflage their presence. When he presents his back to me, I see the symbol he pointed to inked on his left shoulder.
“All Old Family vampires carry the mark of their origins,” he says.
I can’t stop my fingers from touching him. They outline the Ancient Vampiric symbol. Valentine. His skin is like warm silk. So much for the smug promise I made in the car. “What about the other symbol? My father thought it stood for all the families.”
I’m embarrassed that I sound so breathless, as though I just ran here from the Agency building.
“I don’t think so,” he says, his voice rough, and I know my touch is having an effect on him.
“What then?”
“Maybe the lost family.”
“The lost family?” Every time I think I know everything about vampires …
“Legend has it that originally there were fifteen families. One became extinct.”
“How could that even happen?”
Slowly he faces me, but I don’t remove my fingers from his skin. I just allow them to trail a path to his chest, then I flatten my palm against him and feel the powerful thudding of his heart.
“A vampire might fall in love with a human. If he were the last of the family”—he cradles my cheek, strokes his thumb over my lower lip—“he would doom his clan to extinction. Humans and vampires can’t produce offspring.”
“What if he turned her?” It’s a stupid question. Lessers can’t breed.
“Maybe he loved her too much to turn her into what she never wanted to be.”
Victor’s eyes darken as he lowers his mouth to mine, and I realize we’re no longer talking about ancient vampires. Maybe we never were. I welcome his deepening kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. Suddenly I’m aware of my feet leaving the ground as he lifts me into his arms and
carries me to the bed, the mysteries of the symbols forgotten. All that matters right now is us.
Without breaking from the kiss he lays me on the bed and stretches out beside me. Our hands eagerly explore the various contours that shape us. I hear numerous sighs and moans echoing around us and realize we’re creating a symphony of soft sounds. I want so much, but I also know that I’m not ready to take it. I’ll tiptoe to the edge and hover—
Because we can’t be forever. And I want forever.
But a taste. His tongue dancing with mine, his hand slipping beneath my shirt, his mouth now trailing along my throat, his fangs scraping my skin, my pulse throbbing, the press—
“Dammit,” Victor growls and rolls off the bed so fast that I’m surprised he comes up standing instead of hitting the floor. He snatches up his shirt and thrusts his arm into one sleeve.
I’m breathing hard, my body tingling with awareness. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, Dawn.” He spins around and I see what his restraint is costing him. Vampires contain an animalism that allows them to do what must be needed to take blood. I see it in Victor now. But I see more. “I want you. I want your body, your blood. You. All of you. You affect me as no one else ever has. No vampire. No human. Sometimes I think I’ll go mad with wanting. But I know if I give into my desires, it’ll destroy what you are, and being responsible for that will destroy me, too.”
He buttoned his shirt while he talked, but it’s off-kilter. He reaches the end and he has a button left over and no hole through which to put it. To see him so flustered when he’s always so put together touches me in a way his words couldn’t.
“Please don’t go,” I say.
“I can’t stay.”
“Just hold me.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so sad, so defeated. I wasn’t even certain vampires could hold such strong emotions. “I can’t.”
He grabs his jacket and heads for the balcony.
“You can use the front door,” I tell him.
He stops, looks back. “No, I can’t. Rachel’s home.”
I jerk my gaze to the door as though I expect to see her standing there in judgment. “I didn’t hear her.”
“I did. She’s not alone. What do you think brought me back to my senses?”
He opens the balcony door.
“How can you walk away?” I ask.
“Because I love you.”
His words merely waft in on the breeze that stirs the curtains, because he is already gone.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I reach over, wanting Victor to be beside me in bed. But of course he isn’t. Still, I can’t help but remember how close we came to total commitment. We both walked to the ledge and peered down. I saw what could have been, and I was happy. But what did he see? Love is supposed to make you feel wonderful and alive. Victor’s parting words, his conviction that he loves me, did make me feel all those things. But it also left me with a sadness because he had walked away from it. I don’t know if I can.
Hearing Rachel clanging pans in the kitchen, I clamber out of bed and pad out of my bedroom to discover Jeff sitting at the island counter sipping coffee, watching as Rachel is flipping an omelet. This is the kind of morning scene that I’ll never have with Victor. I don’t resent that Rachel finally has it, but I long for it, too.
“Morning,” I say.
“Hey, sunshine,” Jeff says.
I open the fridge, get some juice, and join him. The TV is on but muted and Roland Hursch’s face fills the screen. I grab the remote, press a button—
“—for the first time Tuesday night. Victor Valentine will learn that I’m not like my predecessor. I hold the power. He’ll give in to my demands or there will be no blood.”
I hit the button again and he falls into silence. “I never wanted to be a delegate, you know.”
Rachel looks back at me. “I know, but if you ask me, Hursch is a little too eager and that’s going to cause problems.”
“Do you think he’s prepared for his first meeting?” I ask.
“He could use a reality check. He thinks he already knows everything and doesn’t listen to anything Clive or I say. I’m telling you right now, he’s lucky it’s Victor he’s dealing with. Murdoch would have killed him within ten seconds of meeting such arrogance. Instead, it’s Victor, a vampire who’s been around for centuries but doesn’t look much older than you. That won’t work in his favor.”
“Don’t be so sure. Hursch is going to underestimate him. Victor will capitalize on that.” I sneak a piece of bacon from Jeff’s plate. “Rachel, have you ever heard about there being fifteen Old Families in the beginning?”
“No. Why?”
“Oh, just something I ran across.”
She sets an omelet in front of me. “Why do I think you’re keeping secrets?”
“It’s nothing, really. Yesterday when I was going through my father’s archives, I discovered a carefully preserved document. It’s in Ancient Vampiric, signed by the Fourteen Families. But there’s another symbol that looks like a name. I don’t know what it means. Do you know anything about my dad’s work during the war?”
“I know he was trying to figure out the origins of vampires. Some thought it might hold a clue to defeating them. His work brought him to the attention of the Agency and eventually Valentine. Your father was a renowned scholar. I don’t think anyone knew more about vampires than he did.”
“He didn’t know anything about the Thirst.”
“I think that’s a relatively new phenomenon.”
“I’m not so sure. I think it’s been around but the vamps kept it a secret.”
“I guess I can see that, but I see it as a vampire problem.”
Most people will, and that’s my fear.
“But if we ignore it, it’s going to bite us in the butt.”
“Better than the neck,” Jeff says with a grin.
“Not funny,” I scold. “This is serious.”
“We’ve encountered one case,” Jeff says. “That’s hardly a world-ending epidemic.”
I’m glad I convinced Clive of the importance of the Thirst. It’s amazing that Jeff doesn’t see the danger just over the horizon. Then again, he’s never seen it in person like I have. One look at Brady and—
Damn. Whenever I see him in my mind, all I can see is the Thirst-infected vampire he became. Those frightening images—the gaping maw, the pitch-black eyes—have slowly eroded away the brother I knew and loved.
“Dawn, are you all right?” Rachel asks, snapping me back to the present.
“Oh, yeah. Just thinking of Roland Hursch as delegate.”
Brady—I’m sorry.
After breakfast I head out of the apartment. I need to see Tegan.
I catch the trolley and am outside Tegan’s building in fifteen minutes. Her place isn’t as nice as mine; then again, it isn’t paid for by the Agency. It’s one of the few perks that keeps people working for them—nice digs. I know she’s a little jealous of that sometimes, and it doesn’t help that her one-bedroom apartment is crammed with four siblings and two parents. But there’s a life in those walls, one that I want so badly, one that disappeared once my parents died.
I use the call box and she buzzes me in. I start climbing the stairs, the banisters on the sides eaten away by time and oily fingerprints. Halfway down her hall, I see her door open and she meets me.
“What’s up?” she asks, concern on her face. I don’t come around here too often, and considering what’s been going on, she’s probably expecting bad news.
So I put on a smile. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after everything that happened yesterday.”
She leans against the doorjamb. “Michael stayed with me for a while. I cried all over his shirt. He didn’t seem to mind.”
“He’s good at giving comfort.”
“Yeah.” She studies me for a minute. “There’s something else you need to talk about.”
I nod. She
looks over her shoulder. Even from here I can hear her siblings fighting inside. She sighs heavily.
“We can go somewhere else,” I say.
“I have an idea.”
Tegan takes my hand and we continue up the stairs. I’ve never been this high up in her building. We head down a hall until we reach a very slender door. She opens it and I see a narrow set of stairs heading up. They don’t look particularly safe, but I simply follow Tegan’s lead, hoping I don’t fall through and wind up in someone’s living room.
At the top, she pushes open another door and sunlight bathes me. It hurts my eyes, and a little warning would have been appreciated. But when we step outside, all is forgiven.
“How come I’ve never been up here?” I ask, staring at the rows of flowers that pack the rooftop garden.
“Do you like them? I just finished picking a few to take to the memorial outside the Daylight Grill. I wanted to do something.”
“That’s good,” I say. “We don’t want to forget.”
“No, we don’t.”
I study the arrangement of riotous colors, the delicate petals that must feel so soft, like silk, like that nightgown Faith gave me. “Did you grow these?”
“Yeah.”
“I never knew,” I say.
“We all have little secrets,” Tegan says. She’s right about that. “My grandma started the garden, actually. But now she can’t make it up the stairs, so I took over. I thought it would be a chore. But I love it.”
“I can see why,” I say, closing in on a rose.
I kneel down and look at it, seeing the city just above its red-lipped horizon. How could something so beautiful survive in a place so harsh?
“You can have that one if you want,” Tegan says. “I was going to give it to you as a gift, but since you’re here …”
“I didn’t mean to ruin your surprise,” I say, reaching out and gently stroking the petals, afraid they might wilt under my rough fingertips.
“To be honest, I’m glad I got to show you my garden. But I know that’s not why you came here. So what’s up?”
I almost forgot why I needed to talk to Tegan in the first place, this array of vibrant colors stealing my memory for a second. But, unfortunately, it’s back to business.