Blood Kiss

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Maybe,” I said, sitting up a little but staying in contact with his large warm body. “But he shouldn’t have been able to, damn it. Slayers have immunity to mind tricks—vampire mind tricks, anyway. But I don’t even know if he’s a vampire. I don’t know what the hell he is.”

  “We need to find out,” Michael said. “I want to know everything I can about the guy. Hell, he’s after me for my blood—isn’t that what you said?”

  “He said your blood was the key to some prophesy. I saw him talking to the same vamp that bit you—an Elder. I couldn’t tell what family he came from,” I said.

  “What family?” Michael shifted and looked down at me, frowning a little. “So are vampires organized like the mafia or something?”

  “Close,” I said. “At least, most of the Elder vamps, the founding fathers you could call them, are of Italian descent—that’s where the families get their names. It doesn’t matter what ethnic group they belong to as humans, when they’re turned, they take the family name. And they’re organized a little like the mob too—but by order of strength and age. At the top or head of the family is the Elder—the vamp who started it all in the first place. Then you have the captains and under them the lieutenants. On the very bottom rung you have your leeches— the newest vamps. Easiest to kill because they’re the youngest and the weakest.”

  Michael shifted against me. “Uh, I guess that makes me a leech, huh?”

  “I don’t know where you’d fall in the classification,” I said honestly. “I mean—you’re unique.”

  “Thanks.” He squeezed my shoulders. “I think you’re pretty special, too.”

  “Michael,” I said warningly.

  “Sorry. Just kidding.” But when he grinned at me, I couldn’t help smiling back.

  “Smart ass.” I slapped him on the arm and his grin got wider. His eyes glowed more too—I had never noticed that a vampire’s eyes got brighter when he was happy. But then, I had never exactly gone out of my way to be a messenger of peace and joy among the fanged set.

  “Kate,” he said, shifting around to look me in the eye, “Can we talk about what happened earlier? Without getting mad at each other?”

  I sighed. “You mean can we talk about what happened without me getting mad at you—right?”

  “Well…yeah.” He shrugged. “I just want…no, I need to understand what’s going on here. What happened between us.”

  I stiffened in his arms. “Look, Michael, I don’t know exactly what happened—what all those…feelings or sensations or whatever you want to call them were about. All I know is that I should have stopped it sooner. I mean, I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying—”

  “I’m not exactly talking about the physical sensations we both experienced when I, uh, drank from you,” he said softly. “I’m talking about the fact that from the minute I saw you in the ER I felt drawn to you. I lied about not knowing the hospital policy—I asked you out knowing I could lose my internship because of it.” He pulled me closer and reached down to cup my chin in one warm hand. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Michael…” I started, but he leaned down and stopped me with a kiss. His fangs were out again and I could feel their sharp points grazing my lips but he was very careful and didn’t cut me with them.

  My heart started to pound and I wanted to push away from him and pull him closer at the same time. My breasts, which were bare beneath the t-shirt I had worn to bed, (I had taken off the damn sundress for the night) were pressed tightly against him. I could feel my nipples getting stiff and achy as they rubbed against the hard, warm wall of his chest. Between my thighs, my white cotton panties were getting damp again. Damn—what was wrong with me? It had been a long time since I’d been with a man but I had never reacted so quickly before—and Michael wasn’t even biting me. Had we formed some strange connection earlier when he took my blood?

  I felt his mouth coaxing mine to open and against my better judgment I parted my lips and let him in. His mouth tasted of peppermint toothpaste and under it, a faint coppery hint of blood—my blood, I realized. That’s right, because he’s a vampire. And you’re kissing him. Doing exactly what you promised yourself you’d never do again.

  I broke the kiss and pulled away from him abruptly. Shit. Since when was I so weak and needy that I lost control of myself this way? First crying all over him, then letting him kiss me…What was wrong with me?

  “Am I pushing it?” Michael asked, not trying to kiss me again.

  I scooted away from him, leaving the shelter of his arms. He let me go.

  “Kate?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I just…I just can’t do this. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t feel attracted to you.” My throbbing nipples and the ache between my thighs was evidence of that but I wasn’t about to say so out loud. “It’s just that I…”

  “I know. You don’t do vampires.” Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “You know, you said yourself I’m not the average vamp.”

  I almost smiled at the way he was picking up my slang. “You’re not,” I said. “But you still drink blood. I’m sorry, Michael, but a thirst for human blood means you’re a vampire no matter what else you do and don’t do.”

  “Maybe I can find a cure,” he said. “I almost went into research instead of treatment, you know. It’s fascinating and amazing the things you can do with some of the equipment and gene therapy available these days.”

  “Vampires have been around, as far as we can figure, for over a thousand years,” I said, crossing my arms over my still throbbing breasts. “That’s how long the line of Cosenza has been hunting them, anyway. And you’re just all of a sudden going to come along and fix them?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? You said vampirism was caused by a virus, right? An organism that invades your cells and takes over the body for its own uses? We’ve found cures and vaccines for other disease processes that were just as debilitating and devastating. What about polio? Or just recently I read in a journal about a group of children that had been cured of Sickle Cell through a stem cell transplant. And that’s a disease that involves the blood and circulatory system. The possibilities with gene therapy alone are almost limitless.”

  I shook my head in admiration for his sheer, stubborn determination. I had never thought of the possibility of curing vampirism before. For years the Cosenza line had been concentrating on wiping out the symptoms but not a single one that I knew of had considered trying to eliminate the source of the disease or had even thought of it as a disease at all. I think we considered it more of a curse. I wondered if he could really do it. The way he talked, given the proper equipment and a little time, anything was possible. Then again AIDS was a virus and they were still looking for a cure for that.

  “Are you always one of those ‘glass is half full’ kind of people?” I asked him.

  Michael grinned and shrugged. “Sure, I guess. And I suppose you’re a ‘glass is half empty’ kind.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’m a drink whatever’s left and use the glass for target practice kind of girl.”

  He laughed, a deep rich sound that seemed to come from the very bottom of his chest. “That’s one thing I like about you Kate—your sense of humor.”

  “My what?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Listen, Michael, I’ve been told by several people that ought to know that I don’t have a sense of humor.”

  “Oh, it’s there all right.” He stroked my cheek gently. I thought about pulling away from him but I didn’t do it—the soft touch felt too good. “It’s just a little dusty, that’s all,” he said.

  He leaned a little bit closer and it looked like he might try to kiss me again. I didn’t want him to do that. Or rather—I did want him to. So much that it scared me.

  “We really need to get some sleep,” I said, turning away from him to fluff my pillow more forcefully than was absolutely necessary. “Long day tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” Michael sighed and r
eached out to turn off the light. In the darkness the soft green glow of his eyes no longer bothered me.

  The dream didn’t come back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The safe house was just as I remembered it. A knotty pine cabin tucked away in the mountains of Virginia at the end of a winding dirt rode filled with half submerged rocks and jutting tree roots. I winced as the Charger’s undercarriage scraped against the obstacles, wondering if I was doing permanent damage to my beloved car. Besides the safe house and my favorite knife, it was all I had left of Uncle Harry.

  Thinking of that made me remember all over again the one and only time my uncle had brought me here. It had been in the fall and the leaves were a riot of color my Florida-born eyes weren’t used to seeing. Crimson, vermillion, and brilliant yellow all crowded the road like hoards of dragon’s gold, I remembered thinking. So sue me—I was sixteen and big into Tolkein at the time. I think I liked the romantic notion of going on a quest to fight the darkness that wanted to swallow the world. Of course, that was before I learned what a messy, dangerous business slaying vamps really was. There’s nothing romantic about it. I gave Michael a sidelong glance.

  Well, almost nothing.

  It was spring now so the hickory, chestnut and oak trees that surrounded the cabin were showing tender green sprouts and pale green leaves instead of the colorful riot I remembered. For a moment, I wished it was fall so I could see the cabin as I remembered it. Then I reminded myself that Fall is tourist season in the Blue Ridge which means more people everywhere which in my case, means more innocent bystanders that might become targets for the vampires that were no doubt after us.

  Spring would do just fine.

  “It’s beautiful.” Michael’s voice broke into my thoughts. I looked over and saw him looking up at the trees that towered all around us with a kind of reverent awe. Between their leafy branches, patches of clear blue-white sky showed. It was a little after four in the afternoon, the trip from Georgia to Virginia having taken us almost nine hours.

  “It is,” I acknowledged, trying to see the scenery through his eyes. But to me, the mountains we were driving through looked like a fortress that hopefully might protect us and the trees meant more cover if I got caught in a firefight outdoors. I wondered for a moment where my idealism had gone. Oh, right—it went down the drain with the first vamp I ashed on my own.

  Uncle Harry, on the other hand, had managed to retain his sense of humor and a passionate love of beauty—I knew that was one reason he had located the safe house here. He loved the mountains in Fall, their serene, rugged beauty. He had told me once that the three finest things in life were a good joke, a good meal, and a beautiful woman to share them with. So why hadn’t I gotten any of his appreciation for the finer things in life?

  I sighed as I parked the Charger under a huge live oak tree beside the cabin and killed the ignition. Maybe I hadn’t gotten Uncle Harry’s love of life because for the last four years, my entire existence had been about killing. About exterminating vampires like cockroaches and never taking a break. Maybe I should have been trying to come up here to the cabin in the mountains at least once a year instead of driving myself so relentlessly.

  Then again, it wasn’t always me that did the driving. I remembered The Monsignor’s dry, whispery voice commanding and cajoling, telling me to keep going even when I didn’t think I could anymore. At the time I had taken his words as encouragement. But in hindsight, they seemed more like the words you might use on a sick, tired beast of burden that was almost at the end of its strength.

  Thinking of my old boss, made me realize that I had been fairly careless about driving up here. I’d assumed since I never told The Monsignor about Uncle Harry’s safe house that he didn’t know about it. But you know that old saying about what happens when you assume…

  “I need to make a sweep and be sure we’re alone,” I told Michael who had his hand on the latch and was about to get out. “That nobody’s waiting for us.”

  “Great, you take one side, I’ll take the other and we’ll meet around back.” He opened the door and I reached out and put a restraining hand on his arm.

  “No—stay in the car. I’ll do it.”

  “Kate, be reasonable.” His voice was soft but the look he was giving me was filled with exasperation and tenderness. “I want to help. I don’t want you going into what might be a potentially dangerous situation alone.”

  “You don’t have a gun,” I said, not bothering to point out that I went into dangerous situations alone for a living. “I do. End of discussion.”

  “I have superhuman strength now,” he pointed out. “I don’t need a gun. What I do need is for you to have a little more faith in me. A little more trust. Remember the vampires I fought back at that old burned out church?”

  “Well…” I nodded reluctantly. He had handled himself remarkably well, especially considering he’d had his hands manacled together at the time.

  “I’m not a light weight, Kate,” Michael said softly. “I’m not asking to take care of you because I know you well enough to know you’d resent that. But I can take care of myself and I want to pull my weight in this uh…relationship.” He got a little red around the ears when he said that but he went on anyway. “Besides, it’s broad daylight so there won’t be any other vampires around. In fact…” He looked at the serene picture of the snug little cabin sitting all by itself in the nest of fresh greenery. “I really don’t think anyone’s around here at all. Either vamps or thralls—isn’t that what you called them? The human servants?”

  I sighed. “Yeah. But it’s thinking like that that’s going to get you killed, Michael. Never assume there isn’t a threat in any given situation. There’s always a threat even if it isn’t obvious.”

  “Is that right?” He gave me a little half smile. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to feel threatened, Kate. You’re pretty damn scary when you’re backed into a corner if I recall correctly.”

  His voice was gently teasing but his words still brought a flush to my face as I remembered the way I’d threatened to pop his eye like a grape if he got too near me at the Barbeque Shack. Not to mention the way I’d shoved my Glock in his face after my nightmare last night. Maybe Michael had a point—maybe I was so used to living on the edge that what seemed perfectly normal to me looked borderline psychotic to an outside observer.

  But damnit—sometimes you have to be borderline psychotic to survive. At least in my line of work.

  “Well?” Michael was looking at me patiently, his hand still on the latch of the door. I had the distinct impression that he would stay in the car if I asked him to—not because he agreed with me, but because he didn’t want to upset me. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being humored.

  “Fine,” I said, grabbing the Glock in one hand and my own door handle in the other. “But you follow my lead. I’ve been killing vamps for a hell of a lot longer than you’ve been one. Got it?”

  “Absolutely.” His voice was still mild but I detected a little roughness under the calm. It reminded me that as soft spoken as he was, it probably wasn’t easy for him to keep on letting me take the lead. Every man, no matter how easy going, has a little bit of macho bullshit buried somewhere in their psyche. I just hoped Michael wouldn’t choose the wrong moment to let his come shining through.

  “On my count,” I said. “Keep your ears and eyes open. I’ll take the left side and you take the right. One…two…three.” Then I was out of the car and slipping around the side of the cabin, not waiting to see if he followed my lead or not.

  After all that fuss, there was nothing to see. I crept quietly through the woods, the small twigs crackling under my boots, my Glock at the ready and wound up feeling a little like a fool when I met Michael around the back side of the cabin.

  But a safe fool, so there.

  I found the spare key to the cabin exactly where Uncle Harry had left it—in an old bird’s nest in the fork of a dogwood tree that was about to bloom by the side o
f the house. It was rusty from years of exposure to the elements, but it was still usable and the wooden door creaked like something out of a horror movie when I swung it open. Well, I’m assuming that’s how it creaked anyway. I don’t go to see horror flicks as a rule—I get enough horror in my daily life, thank you very much, without paying ten bucks a pop to see more.

  I approached the threshold with my gun still drawn but it was obvious no one was there or had been there since my Uncle died. I stood for a moment in the entryway, looking around, before going in. Then I realized that Michael wasn’t behind me. I turned around to see him standing right in the doorway with a pained expression on his face.

  “Hey,” I said. “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “I’m…trying. But I can’t…can’t seem to cross through the doorway.” He looked like he was leaning against an invisible barrier and suddenly I realized what was wrong. He was a vampire and this was a private residence—he needed an invitation. I had taken him into my home in Florida myself but every new house needs a new invite for a vamp to enter.

  “You can come in,” I said without thinking about it. Michael stumbled forward, as though an invisible wall of ice had suddenly melted, and nearly fell on the floor. I ran to catch him and we were face to face for a long moment—almost close enough to kiss. I tried not to think of the soft, insistent press of his mouth against mine the night before. Instead, I pulled away from him and straightened my hair.

  “What was that all about?” Michael asked, sounding bewildered.

  “You’re a vampire,” I said for what felt like the thousandth time. “You have to be invited into a private residence by the owner. In this case me, since my uncle left me this cabin.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess I’ll chalk it up to another learning experience.”

  He didn’t sound too happy about it but there wasn’t much I could do about that. After all, I wasn’t the one who had made him undead. I thought about saying, ‘You’ll get used to it’ but that didn’t sound very nice either somehow.