by A. C. Mason
“Of course, Mr. Louchian. Let me make more space.” Aaron held out a hand for the menus, took them and left.
Vaihan’s smooth, long fingers strummed the tops of her hands. Heat danced beneath his touch.
She met his gaze.
“Your father fought for the first senate seat in the District of Columbia and your brother is a lawyer, who many believe will pick up were your father left off. So, how old were you when you decided you had no interest in politics or law?”
“Young.” In the beginning, she had feared her parent’s rejection. Eventually, she’d sought their disapproval. “My parents hoped I’d grow out of it. Peter helped shelter me from their criticism. My father believed I was mixed up with the wrong crowd, meaning boyfriend, so they shipped me off to study culinary arts abroad.” After the loss of her child and ovary, and breaking things off with Rowley, the victory of studying what she wanted had been bittersweet.
Aaron arrived with a wine and a Scotch glass on his tray.
Leera picked up her drink, smelled the sweet vanilla and pepper aromas then sipped the tangy liquid. “Delicious.”
“Wonderful.” The young man left.
“What were you seeking that cooking provided?” He locked his fingers with hers.
With Vaihan, an ease came over her at being touched that only her late husband and Rowley had managed to make her feel. “An artful skill, and something I could leave at work, when I left for the day.”
“And does your employment provide that?” He massaged the inside of her palm with his thumb.
“It can. However, after the accident, I buried myself in work and became the youngest woman head chef at a three star Michelin rated restaurant.” She lifted her glass and allowed the sweet taste to wash over her tongue. “As head chef at La Petite Brasserie, I do more managing than cooking. So the answer is no, but that is my own fault.”
A short man set down her shrimp cocktail, smiled and left.
Aaron arrived with a tray, placed a large white bowl in front of Vaihan with squares glazed in a dark red sauce. A deep-dish salad with leafy greens, tortilla chips pieces and beans with peanut butter dressing was placed before her. So far, everything seemed freshly made. Would the taste live up to it?
What had he ordered? Didn’t zombies eat humans?
Chapter 10
Beneath Vaihan’s hand, Leera’s fingers stiffened, which was the cue to that moment when all theory of what he was would go out the window and she’d be faced with the truth.
She peered at his bowl with saucerlike eyes. “What are you having?”
He didn’t want her perception of him to change. Yet, it was inevitable. “Ms. Waltz, once we have this discussion, we cannot return to the bliss of ignorance. Are you sure you want to know the answer?”
She met his gaze and nodded. “Now, I’m the one who needs to build up your faith in my ability to deal with who and what you are.”
Modernisms entertained him and he enjoyed using them too. Her pretty chocolate eyes seduced him, and he didn’t want to lose the ease she had with him. But he wouldn’t hide what he was, either.
“I’m having human female thigh with organs-au-jus.”
“Why the thigh and not a breast?” She quirked an eyebrow. Her tone was even–unchanged–which was a good sign.
He smiled that she had gone down that road. “Do you want the flirtatious answer or the truth?”
“Both.” She nodded.
Curious creature, she was. “The flirtatious response would be, I can think of a better use for breasts besides eating them.”
She pressed her lips together.
“The factual reason is that, breasts are made up of cellulite, glands and veins. None of which are very tasty. Nor do they have the nutrition that allows for my kind to regenerate.”
“Huh. Who knew...” She cocked her head with a shrug. “Are there spices? How fresh is it?”
“Honestly, I’m not the best person to answer those questions. The chef, Johann, is a friend of mine and I’m sure he’d be excited to have a fellow alumna in his kitchen.”
“If you aren’t put off, then I would love to speak with him.”
Vaihan stood and held his arm out for her. If she sought to know, he’d be honored to give her a true perception of the undead. Not one trumped up by ignorance or hatred of his kind.
She took hold of his arm. “Thank you.”
As his hand slid to the small of her back, she didn’t shy from his touch.
“You’re welcome.” This type of ease was rare with human females this early on.
They went down the steps, and he led her through the kitchen door.
Johann frowned. “Vaihan, is something wrong? Is your dinner not to your liking?”
Creative folks could be so sensitive. Four rows of stainless steel counters stretched out before them. “Everything is delicious.” Though he’d yet to have a bite, he was sure his assessment was true. Hopefully, Leera would play along. The man had a fragile ego.
She nodded. “The presentation is eye-catching and the aromas are robust.”
“I like her. Who is she?” Johann gestured for the undead slicing a hand from an arm to ignore them.
The alluring scent of blood permeated the air. The muscles around his ribs squeezed. He hadn’t thought of his own discomfort watching such a display. “Please allow me to introduce Leera Waltz.” Most of his kind could not work surrounded by delectable morsels of flesh without being consumed by “the urge.” The other undead now loaded organs into a blender. What did Leera make of all this?
Her gaze darted over, then back at Johann.
“Head Chef Waltz from Washington’s only restaurant with three Michelin stars? Fellow kindred spirit from Le Cordon Bleu?”
“The very one.” Her full lips parted, revealing her teeth.
“Your taste in women has improved.” Johann smirked at him.
“No pun intended, of course.” Vaihan grinned. Born of nobility, Johann could be a snob, and didn’t much care for Vaihan’s taste in companions. Elizabeth and Johann had never got on. Not that he cared what the undead thought, but Johann didn’t miss a chance to provide his commentary.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Johann turned toward to her.
Vaihan slipped a hand around her waist. “Leera has questions about the preparation of our food, such as spices and freshness.”
“How much have you told her?” Johann glanced over at Vaihan.
“Only what I ordered as my meal.”
“Good.” He crossed his arms behind his back and bowed. “Ms. Waltz.”
“Please call me Leera.” The gathered material of her gown’s bodice strap slid down her shoulder. Goose bumps covered the area. Eyelids at half-mast, her lava-rock eyes were edged with heat as she met Vaihan’s stare.
Hunger spread from one head to the other. The temptation she presented him wouldn’t be easy to resist. But then, perhaps he didn’t need to.
Johann nodded. “My work is nearly impossible. Undead can smell and taste the health of human flesh. With cloned meat, since they don’t eat, their flesh is very bland, nearly unpalatable. I create a semblance of nutritional history for each of the pieces–such as Mexican, Indian, Canadian and so on. The technique is my very own. I can’t overcure, as the longer the flesh has been dead, the less nutritious and palatable for our kind it becomes.”
“No ovens or freezers back here?” She tilted her head, examining the rows of steel counters and shelves.
Vaihan exchanged a glance with Johann.
“We neither cook nor refrigerate it,” Johann replied. “Would you like to see the storage tanks?”
“Perhaps another time.” She smiled. Her look pleaded with him to leave. “I really appreciate you welcoming me into your kitchen. I’m honored.”
“Feel free to come back anytime. We can discuss curing techniques then.”
Vaihan nodded “Thank you, old friend.”
“My pleasure.” A wide grin beamed ear to ear on Johann’
s face.
Vaihan slid his palm to Leera’s back and opened the door for her. “Has your curiosity been satisfied, beaute?”
“I’m afraid so.” A flush spread from her cheeks, down her neck, to below her collarbone, and beneath the gathered fabric of the fitted gown.
Those words weren’t a good sign. He waited for her to take a seat and prepared himself for the excuse she’d come up with to leave.
“My appetite, however, has vanished.” She covered his hand with hers and squeezed.
“Has it now?” He couldn’t help but grin nervously.
Her black eyes pulled him closer as her pupils dilated and her lips parted as she let out a hard breath.
She nodded, reached for his cheek with her slender fingers and slid her thumb along the crevasse of his dimple. The edge of her nail grazed his flesh and the chill of her touch danced, tingling, over his skin, downward. He overlapped his hand with hers and brushed the smooth surface over his mouth.
“You, sir, have the sexiest one dimple I’ve ever seen.” Her words struck him. No woman had ever referred to his appearance in any way other than tolerable, and now twice, she’d flattered him. How did the neurons in her brain interpret him? Did her image of him reflect his true appearance?
She withdrew her fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” So far, she was proving him wrong, and he liked that.
“My squeamish stomach.” She sighed. “After all, I asked.”
“Don’t apologize.” Nothing about the way she’d reacted gave him a sense of uneasiness. “I’m grateful for how you treated Johann. He is a dear friend.”
“He’s passionate about his work. What’s not to like about that? I used to feel that way about my work too.” Leera lifted the glass to her mouth and parted her lips. Golden liquid emptied into her, and then she retracted the rim. Her tongue traveled over her plump bottom lip. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
He couldn’t possibly, when his date was uncomfortable. “No.” Vaihan gestured for Aaron to put the bill on his tab and to get their coats. He drank a few swallows of his Scotch. His hunger for her simmered to a boil.
“I don’t want to spoil your dinner.” She sipped her wine.
“I ordered so you didn’t feel you were eating alone. And so you wouldn’t get the impression that I was a big bad wolf just waiting for you to finish your meal so I could eat you.”
A rose pigment rushed over her cheeks. “As long as the eating you have in mind involves more tongue than teeth, I won’t mind.”
His gaze held hers. He grew hard at the thought of tasting between her lovely thighs. “Definitely more use of tongue, lips and fingers.” What was he doing? This was supposed to be work. Not him, getting into a messy relationship with a woman he was using.
She finished the contents of her glass. “I hate to say this, but I’m feeling a little tipsy.”
“Given that you consumed alcohol on an empty stomach, I can’t say I’m surprised. Are you uneasy about your state of inebriation with me?”
She shook her head. “I’m more amazed at how little alcohol my body can tolerate. If neither of us is going to eat, can we head back?”
Vaihan stood and gestured to Aaron, who held their coats, to approach. The young man hustled over to him. He took them and held her jacket out for her. “Indeed, we can.”
Leera rose. The firm mounds of her breasts bounced as she wobbled.
He gripped her waist to steady her. “Easy.”
She leaned into him and held on. “Thank you.” With a slow twirl, she slipped her arms into her coat and buttoned up.
As he guided her to the door, he put on his jacket. His car waited, engine running, under the red awning. He opened her door.
The black seam of her stockings hinted at what hid beneath her dress. Did she wear a garter belt and stockings or fancy pantyhose? Both would be interesting. As imprudent as his desire may be, he didn’t much care, and couldn’t keep from watching as she slid her petite frame into the seat then lifted her legs inside.
He closed the door. Everything in him wanted to explore where this would go. And it wasn’t just the sexual aspect, though the stiff need in his pants prevented him from denying that he was intrigued by the chemistry. He glided into the driver’s side seat.
Leera giggled.
“Did I miss something?” He buckled himself in.
“I was just thinking about how our first date is going.” She rested her head on the seat and met his gaze.
The belt was strapped over her torso.
“Given the problems with the seat belt, would you like to check that I’m latched in?”
He nodded and tugged, let go and yanked, releasing it gently. “And anticipating how unique our second one will be?” He pulled onto the road.
“Now that you’ve brought it up. Are you asking me on another date?” With a smile like hers, how could he not?
“Definitely, I am requesting another evening out with you, Ms. Waltz. Will you honor me with your company again?” Please, let her want to see him. “I will give up the consumption of human female flesh to demonstrate how interested I am.”
The corner of her mouth flipped up, and then her teeth bit into her bottom lip. “I’ll be the only woman devoured by your hunger?” She cocked an eyebrow. “The only one meeting your needs?”
His heart thumped in his chest. “Yes.” Did she know what her words did to him?
“How many women have you loved in your life?”
Where was this line of questioning going? “Three. My mother, I admired. My sister, I adored. Elizabeth, I worshiped.” She had changed him for the better. Loving her was easy. “Losing Elizabeth opened a wound I didn’t even know I could still suffer from.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped up the droplet with the back of her thumb then rested her hands on her lap.
He reached over and weaved his fingers with hers. His words must have reminded her of the loss of her husband.
The corner of her mouth trembled. “What happened to Elizabeth?”
“I ate her.”
Her eyes widened, she met his gaze. “You do love to tease...” She smiled.
“I’m afraid this isn’t one of those times, beaute. The moment her cells divided abnormally, her scent changed. I begged her to see a doctor.” Pain seized his throat. “We fought about it, to the point that she’d asked me to move out, then she took it back. I wouldn’t let it go. By the time she did see a doctor, the cancer had moved to her bones. Treatments were so crude then. Near the end, she came home. There was nothing more they could do for her. Barely lucid, she drifted in and out of consciousness.” The image of Elizabeth’s face, sunken and ravaged by the cancer treatments, was etched in his mind. She’d been so fragile. “Questions we’d never addressed before, I answered for her about what I am. She pleaded with me to end her suffering. Over several days, she begged me to end her life. I was horrified she could ask me to betray my one rule.”
“And what was the rule?”
“I only fed on those I knew the world would be better off without. As her pain got worse, I gave in.”
“It was mercy.” Leera squeezed his hand.
“I wish it were. I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer any more.” He pulled into her driveway. “So I freed us both.” He climbed out of the car and opened her door.
“Do you want to know what I think?”
Of course, he did. He’d never told anyone of what he’d done for Elizabeth. “Immensely.”
“I think you want to scare me and keep me at arm’s length, despite the fact that you are pursuing me. I’m not sure why, though. What you just told me doesn’t scare me.”
Did she hope he’d end her internal suffering too? Part of her assessment was true. He didn’t enjoy misleading her. The circumstances under which they’d met were a setup. Forgiveness was one of the hardest things to come by, and would she be able to find it within her to pardon his sin? He didn’t intend on denying himself what he
felt when he was with her. Nor did he plan to discourage her interest in him. Another factor weighed on him, that death would appeal to her. Through and through, he embodied death, darkness–as a predator. When she understood he wanted to keep her far away from the destructive force inside him, would she withdraw or would he need to pull back?
He took her hand in both of his. “I’m very interested in you. I want you to know who and what I am, though, as we move forward. I don’t want you to feel I have left you in the dark.” As much of that as was possible, under the circumstances.
“Okay.” She tugged him along the path.
He matched her pace. On the porch, she stopped. Part of him wanted to put an end to the lie. But he wouldn’t, not until he knew what the feds really wanted.
Large snowflakes cascaded into her curls, resting on the waves.
“No food next date. I promise. Say you’ll agree to see me again.” He slid his arm behind her and held her near.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not agreeing to it.”
Had he misread her? Better he find out now she didn’t have the stomach to handle what he was than discover it later. Yet, he didn’t want this to end.
The corner of her mouth turned upward. “I want to see you again, if that’s okay with you?”
The woman twisted him up inside.
He exhaled his breath, which he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yes.”
She leaned in, lips pressed forward.
Vaihan stepped back. With her dark gaze, she searched his. The pretty upward turn to her mouth vanished into a straight line. She spun to the door and unlocked it.
“Leera.” How could he explain more to her without scaring her off?
“Please don’t.” A minute shift in her tone denoted the rejection she felt.
“I must.” He placed his hand on her shoulders and pulled her side against him. She remained defiant, her eyes and body angled away, as he pressed his cheek to hers. “Listen, I too, long to know the sweet taste of your lips. However, there are certain differences about my kind.” He brought her hand to his chest beneath his coat. The thunderous beat of his heart pounded against her hand. “The moment we touch, not only do you wake...” He drew her hip to his hard length. “The male physical need, but you unleash the predator’s hunger, the urge. What that means is a neurotoxin releases in my saliva, blood and semen. A drop will incapacitate you, rendering you helpless while heightening all your senses. I’d need to spend the night to ensure you didn’t have an adverse reaction to the drug.” He lifted her palm to his mouth, skimmed her skin with his lips. “I’m not sure that’s how you were hoping this night would conclude.” He swayed, then shuffled his feet.