He kept checking his phone, hoping for a follow up text from Katie and being disappointed each time. As the night progressed, more people filed into the bar, including a few women who smelled frustratingly good. It turned into a race for Jack to get drunker faster than he was affected by his bloodthirst.
“Another beer,” he mumbled, pushing his mug toward Mickie. The bartender shook her head wordlessly.
“Come on…” said Jack. “One more beer. That’s all! That’s it!”
He stood up, wavering on his feet as he tried to slide the mug further across the bar toward Mickie. She shot an annoyed glance at Palmer, who turned his hands up.
“He’s not my bloody responsibility,” said Palmer.
Mickie folded her arms.
“Fine, fine,” said Palmer. “Come on, Jack. Let’s go for a walk.”
“No…” Jack grimaced, rubbing his fingers against his temples as pain throbbed through him. “I just need…”
He groaned and made a feeble attempt at reaching around with his mug to fill it from the tap on his own. Palmer pulled him back and Jack stumbled, falling on his butt.
“You’re way too drunk, mate,” said Palmer. “Whatever it is you’re looking for tonight, you ain’t gonna find it in the bottom of a glass.”
“I… just need… one more,” mumbled Jack.
“Mr. Masterson.”
Ryoko’s voice was faint, as always, and it took Jack a second to recognize it. He looked over his shoulder and saw his soft-spoken, demure maid standing in the bar’s entranceway, frowning at him.
She’d drawn the attention of some of the nearby patrons, and for good reason. Ryoko was attractive in a classical way, with distinctive Asiatic features and a soft, rounded face. Her eyes were light brown, and her jet-black hair was done up into a nearly perfect bun, with only a single strand falling loose across one cheek.
She was in uniform, even though she’d been alone at the mansion for most of the day. The black dress was of the standard style of a maid with only minor accents of white, and she wore matching thigh high stockings underneath.
“Ryoko!” Jack smiled at her, feeling the room spin as he tried to stand to his feet. The bar had gone partially silent, and his face heat up as his awareness caught up with the situation. He was making a fool of himself and dragging her down along with him.
Ryoko’s cheeks were bright red as she made her way over to him, and her embarrassment was infectious. Jack grabbed his library book and mumbled a goodbye to Palmer. He groaned as she offered him a shoulder to lean on and began leading him out of the bar.
“Come on,” she said. “It’s late. I should be getting you home.”
“It’s not late,” muttered Jack. “I just got here…”
The nighttime sky contradicted him as they made their way up the stairs and back onto the street. The moon was high overhead, suggesting that it was close to midnight or even past it. Ryoko led him to where she’d parked the car on the street and opened the back door.
“You’re too good to me,” muttered Jack. “I appreciate… your work.”
“Take it easy, sir,” said Ryoko. “Just try to sleep. I’ll have you home soon enough.”
He did appreciate her, and it might have been the effect of the alcohol on his emotions, but he suddenly felt like he’d done a poor job of letting her know how much. Jack had even fed on Ryoko once before. It had been a mistake, at a time when he’d been injured and confused by the intensity of his bloodthirst. She’d taken the anti-enthrallment potion, just as Katie usually did, and she’d been asleep for it. And yet still, Jack felt as though he needed to make that up to her.
The drive back to the mansion was almost intolerable for him, as the car made his vertigo a hundred times worse. Ryoko drove slowly, but it only helped so much. Jack groaned and leaned himself upright as they made the last stretch up the mansion’s driveway.
With most of the lights inside the mansion off, the building was left looking hollow and abandoned. To Jack, it still felt like his grandfather’s home rather than his own. A place with a history and character that went back lifetimes, and all of it totally unknowable to him now.
The exterior, motion-activated lights flicked on as Ryoko drove the car past the gate, which opened for the car automatically. She parked in the drop-off loop, not bothering to bring the car all the way into the garage. Jack let out a groan as they came to a stop. He tried to get out on his own and ended up having to reach for Ryoko’s shoulder again as he stumbled.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s fine, Mr. Masterson,” said Ryoko. “Everyone has nights like this. With your condition, it’s more excusable.”
It took Jack a second to realize what she meant, and when he did, he felt even worse about the situation. Katie had originally led Ryoko to believe that Jack had a medical condition to explain some of the eccentricities of his vampirism. To hear that lie coming back at that particular moment made Jack’s shame burn hot in his chest.
“I bet my grandfather never put you through this,” he mumbled.
Ryoko opened the front door and helped him into the mansion’s foyer, flicking the light on as they moved across the threshold.
“Your grandfather was not much of a drinker, sir.” Ryoko said, in a slightly abashed voice.
“He was… a good man,” muttered Jack.
Was he? Jack hadn’t known him as an adult. He could only go off what Katie had told him and what little he remembered from his childhood.
“He was a good man,” said Ryoko. “You needn’t compare yourself to him, sir. You’re different types of people, and that’s a good thing, in my opinion.”
She was smiling, and somehow that made him feel magnitudes better about the situation. He managed to find his balance as Ryoko helped him upstairs. She brought him into his room and even pulled back the blankets to help him into bed.
“You’re a saint,” said Jack. He started to shift his weight off her shoulder and made the mistake of breathing in through his nose. Ryoko was a saint, and she smelled like perfection. A rush went through Jack as his eyes lingered on her pale, flawless neck.
He closed his eyes and collapsed down into the bed. Different types of people. What would his grandfather have thought of him? What would their relationship have been like, had he survived to know Jack as he was now?
He wasn’t sure he enjoyed thinking about it.
CHAPTER 3
Jack woke up with a headache bad enough to threaten the integrity of his skull. It didn’t surprise him, but expecting the pain didn’t make it any better. He groaned and sat up in bed, noticing that not only had Ryoko tucked him in, but she’d also left his library book on the bed stand next to him.
“She really is a saint,” he muttered.
Lacking the necessary motivation to pull himself completely out of bed, Jack reached for the book and started flipping through it a second time. Much of it was written in a style of English that he found hard to parse at a glance, but there were a few paragraphs related to what he’d been reading about the night before, primarily Thomas Aquinas’s usage of the spell “Shadow Form.”
“He submerged himself in shadow and released his grip on the earth,” Jack read to himself. He frowned, considering what the sentence involved. There was only a single window in his room, and it did have a curtain…
Jack rolled out of bed and used the curtains to block most of the light coming into the room. He had a hangover, along with the residual effects of his bloodthirst, but did his best to ignore both as he began concentrating.
His ability to use blood magic felt a little like having an extra sense or an extra set of muscles. He could feel the amount of blood essence inside of him, the basic “fuel” that powered his magic, almost like he could feel his body’s own warmth or the amount of oxygen left in his lungs. Right now, he had barely any, and most of it was slowly being drained in a battle against his hangover.
Still, he wanted to see if he could manage a dry r
un of the new spell he’d been reading about. Most of his current spells were variations of spectral magic, specifically conjuring ethereal shadows into physical form.
Spectral Hand felt a little like extending an arm, except one that could stretch and move in a manner limited only by his imagination. Spectral Sword was similar, but with a focus on manifesting a weapon, a weapon with the inherent advantages provided by magic. It was weightless, sharper than steel, and easily summoned and dismissed.
For Shadow Form, Jack attempted a variation of what he’d already learned how to do. He turned his attention within his body, trying to attune it to the shadows enveloping his room. He tried to, as the book had suggested, submerge himself in shadow and release his grip on the physical world.
Pain stabbed through his temples, and his stomach roiled as a new wave of nausea set in. It was hard for him to tell if he’d actually done anything with his magic or if his hangover had picked an unfortunate moment to get the better of him. Either way, he decided it was best to take a break for the morning.
He headed for the bathroom, overhearing the familiar echo of rain slowly beginning to pelt the roof on the way. He figured it was the storm that Palmer had been talking about the day before. Jack took a long shower, letting the hot water do what it could to revitalize him.
He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt once he was out and dry, and then headed down to the dining room. He didn’t see Ryoko anywhere, and for once, there was no breakfast waiting for him. Jack didn’t mind, especially given that Ryoko had listened to a request he’d made a couple days earlier and picked up some Pop-Tarts for him to fall back on.
Jack heard the mansion’s front door opening, and he walked back out into the foyer to find a soaking wet Katie pulling off a pair of boots in the entranceway. Her brown hair fell across her shoulders in wet, tangled locks. She had a frown on her mildly freckled face, and a single glance at her clothing was enough to explain why.
Katie had made the mistake of wearing a white blouse, and the rain had soaked the garment to the point of being see-through. Jack made an effort to not stare as she tried to create space between the fabric and her skin underneath. She finally noticed him looking, and her frown shifted into a scowl aimed in his direction.
“Take a photo,” said Katie. “It’ll last longer.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.” Jack smiled at her, holding it against the harsh look Katie gave him in return. She sighed after a couple of seconds, and her demeanor softened.
“Did you make it through the night okay?” she asked.
“I managed,” said Jack.
“You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?” asked Katie.
“No, Katie,” said Jack. “I didn’t do anything stupid.”
A silent moment passed with both of them watching each other, and the tension building in the background. Katie had been keeping her distance from him for the past few days, and Jack could understand why.
After Mira had first turned him into a vampire, they’d had a shared goal in hunting her down. Breaking Jack’s vampiric curse through finding and killing Mira would have returned his life to normal, and it would have also let Katie honor her old master’s legacy. Jack’s grandfather’s legacy.
They’d drawn closer to each other during those few days, up until Mira had escaped the island and fallen off the radar. They’d grown close, probably too close. They’d shared intimate words with each other, and Jack had put more than just his fangs inside of her.
With Mira gone, it felt as though they’d taken a step backward. Katie was barely around the mansion anymore, only showing up when it was clear that Jack needed to feed and couldn’t hold out any longer. Their relationship felt like that of a recently released prisoner and a parole officer. Jack didn’t blame her for it. She had a fiancé. She had a life that didn’t really have room for him in it, as much as he hated to acknowledge it.
“Well then,” said Katie. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Right,” said Jack. “No offense, but you put this off until the last second. My cravings have been hitting me harder, and coming more frequently.”
“And?” asked Katie. “What am I supposed to do about that?”
“I’m just telling you so that you know,” said Jack. “Jesus, Katie. You don’t have to be so tense around me.”
She slowed as they approached the far wall of the wine cellar, setting her hands on her hips and turning around to face him.
“We’ve been over this before,” said Katie. “I don’t fucking like this situation. And I don’t like the idea of it having to continue indefinitely, with you maybe even needing to feed more often than you already do.”
She glanced away from him, and he could see the conflict on her face.
“I don’t like this either, Katie,” said Jack. “And I do appreciate what you’re doing for me. I really do.”
Was she doing it for him? Jack still wasn’t sure. Katie’s loyalty to his grandfather hadn’t diminished with the man’s death. He knew that at least in part, Katie taking responsibility for his vampiric condition was out of respect for her old master. Jack wasn’t sure how much her feelings for him played into her decision, if they did at all.
Katie opened the hidden section of the wall and tapped the code into the control panel behind it. The secret door leading to Peter’s personal workshop slid open, and Katie folded her arms and headed inside.
They’d cleaned up the mess that Mira had left after her break-in, and it looked much as it had when Jack had first seen it. Katie’s alchemy equipment was set up on the central table. Peter’s desk, which held a number of old magical tomes and historical texts, sat unused in the corner.
The weapon rack took up the wall nearest to the door, with a number of claymores, maces, quarterstaffs, and crossbows hanging from it. It was solid metal and, after recent renovations, once again cemented into the stone wall. Katie gestured for Jack to move up against it as she passed him the handcuffs.
He knew better than to complain, and he understood why they needed to take the precaution. They’d come dangerously close to throwing all boundaries aside each time Jack had fed off Katie without the cuffs.
Jack closed one of the bracelets around his wrist, threaded the chain through one of the metal struts of the weapon rack, and attached the other one to his free wrist. There was a certain poetry in locking himself, a vampire, to a weapon rack for containment. He was dangerous, not unlike a sword or a mace.
“Alright,” said Katie. “I took the potion just before I left, so it should have kicked in by now.”
Jack nodded. The only sound was that of the rain pattering down on the roof, which had a faint, whispery quality when heard from the basement. Katie brushed a few wet locks of hair away from her neck and slowly moved into range, her shoulders hunched nervously.
“I’ll be quick,” said Jack. “And gentle.”
Katie took the final step toward him, putting her neck within range of his mouth. Jack inhaled her scent, almost groaning at the sweetness and familiarity of it. He opened his mouth, baring his fangs and turning his head to the side.
He paused for a fraction of a second to let his breath tickle Katie’s neck. She let out a tiny shiver and bit her lower lip. Her hands were clenched together over her heart, and she had her eyes squeezed shut, and yet still, there was an element of anticipation to her body language.
Even with the handcuffs on, Jack could feel a shift in the balance of power as his lips brushed against the nape of her neck. For all the annoyance she outwardly projected, she still reacted to him like a blushing schoolgirl being touched by a boy for the first time.
Jack planted a soft kiss on her neck, marking the spot he was about to bite. Katie let out a fluttery breath and pushed her neck a little closer to him. Jack took a slow breath, and then let his fangs make contact, slipping them painlessly into her skin and taking a deep drink of the nectar of life.
“…Oh!” gasped Katie.
Her vo
ice was high-pitched, and she swayed slightly on unsteady feet, letting out a soft, wavering moan. Jack wished his arms were free, so he could pull her into a proper embrace. He almost didn’t need to. Katie’s reluctance had vanished on the first contact of his fangs, and she was leaning into him, pressing her still rain-damp body against his. Her hands ran across his shoulders, and then through his hair as she blindly savored the intimacy of his bite.
He let his lips form a tight seal against her neck, and almost as though in response, Katie mashed her body more tightly against his. She moved slightly, grinding into him with gentle, rhythmic movements. She was quivering, and Jack could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest.
It was almost more intimate than sex. Jack was handcuffed, restrained as effectively as he could be. He couldn’t touch her with his hands, and the fact that he could still elicit such a strong reaction from her only made it that much more meaningful. Katie pushed her crotch forward, sliding it against Jack’s excited lower half and answering his aggressive prods as though they were both already naked.
He started picturing Katie naked. He couldn’t stop himself. Katie was attractive in a seductively cute, girl next door kind of way. Jack could feel the cold pinch of the handcuffs against his wrists, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to not snap through the chain links with his enhanced strength and put Katie through her paces properly. She was still pressed against him, undulating like a cat in heat. She should have been his for the taking. But she wasn’t, and he knew that if he let himself give in to his arousal, it would only hurt them both in the long run.
Jack only let himself take enough blood to sate his bloodthirst before pulling back. He licked his lips clean and planted a single, soft kiss on Katie’s cheek. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, and she stared at him, still biting her lip.
“Did you… get enough?” asked Katie.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Unless you want me to drink more?”
Shadow Form (Dark Impulse Book 2) Page 2