In the Dark

by PG Forte

  He clenched his jaw and threw his head back as he came, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into her throat. There was no sense in further complicating this thing between them and he did not entirely trust himself to stop when he should.

  The need to taste her didn’t dissipate quickly, however. Even after he’d brushed a final kiss across her lips and pulled away from her he felt it, thought about it, wanted it. Even after he’d rolled to the side and buried his face in his pillow, the lure of her blood, the memory of its flavor—so sweet, so hot, so temptingly close at hand—haunted him.

  She didn’t make it any easier when she sat up to ask, “So, you’re saying you have to drink blood then. Is that right?”

  Suppressing a groan, he nodded. “Yes.”

  “And have you…have you tried not drinking blood?”

  He laughed at that. For was he not trying—even now—to do that very thing? Swallowing his urge as best he could, he rolled over on his back and smiled up at her. “I can still eat other food, if that’s what you’re asking, but I get very little enjoyment from it and, since it no longer does anything to sustain me, I rarely bother. Without blood I would die.”

  “Do you like it? Blood, I mean. Do you like how it…how it tastes?”

  “Very much.” He could feel his heart start to race as he thought about it. “Especially yours.”

  “Show me.”

  She shyly held out her arm and offered him her wrist. Conrad’s eyes widened in surprise. “Thank you, my dear,” he said, pushing it gently aside. “But, I can go for quite a while between meals and I don’t need to feed tonight.”

  She bit her lip. “But, I want you to. Please?”

  “Why?” he rasped in annoyance as temptation caused his fangs to pulse in orgiastic spasms.

  “Because I…I want to see you do it.” Heat rose once again in her cheeks. Excitement danced in her eyes. “I want to understand what it’s all about, what it’s like for you, who you are.”

  Maybe she wasn’t intending to seduce him but, all the same, she was. The desire to prove himself something other than a monster, to pleasure her in ways no mortal could and to slake his own thirst at the same time, was nearly overwhelming. Definitely he didn’t mean to fall victim to her spell but, all the same, he did. When she offered herself a second time, he gave in.

  He took hold of her arm with trembling hands, sighing with pleasure when she curled her fingers around his, as though seeking reassurance in the touch. He licked slowly over her silken skin, thrilling to the scent of her, his stomach muscles rippling in anticipation of her taste.

  “Well?” she murmured softly, teasingly, trustingly, when he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, to gauge her mood. “What are you waiting for?”

  Opening his mouth wide, he exposed his fangs. Giving her every chance to see, to understand, to change her mind. She held her breath, watching, waiting. Still willing. He slid his teeth in cleanly, smoothly, puncturing her skin as swiftly and painlessly as possible. Then he bit down harder, closing his jaws upon her wrist to release the venom, watching her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, as the shock of it hit her system.

  “Oh,” she gasped, surprise mingling with recognition on her face. “So that’s what that is.”

  He nodded once in acknowledgement before seeking his own pleasure and filling his mouth with her rich, coppery essence. He drank her in until he’d just barely satisfied the worst of his need. Then he stopped. Breathing hard, he forced himself to let go. He used his tongue to clean and heal the wounds he’d made until only the smallest of marks remained.

  When he released her, she lifted her wrist and studied it curiously. “It’s like…magic, or something,” she murmured pensively.

  “Or something,” he agreed as he drew her close.

  “I like it.” She curled into his embrace, pliant and relaxed, still gazing at her arm. “It feels good. Does it feel like that to you, too?”

  He shook his head. “Not exactly. A lot of the pleasure you’re feeling right now comes from the venom that’s released when I bite you. I only feel that when another vampire bites me. So, no, not quite the same.”

  Frowning now, she transferred her gaze to his face. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair. So, then…it’s not just human blood you drink…is that right?”

  Conrad shuddered. He couldn’t keep his lip from curling in disgust. “It is possible to do so, yes. There are…animals…whose blood would sustain us for a time, perhaps in an emergency. But the subject is distasteful. We do not discuss it.”

  She shook her head. “No, silly. I didn’t mean animals. That would be weird. I meant other vampires.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s quite a different matter.” Relaxing again, he propped himself up on one elbow and grinned at her. “It’s not always about sustenance, you know. Certainly we bite each other, upon occasion.” Leaning into her, he nipped playfully at her shoulder. “And, under certain circumstances, yes, we might even drink each other’s blood. In fact, there are times when it can be beneficial. If one of us is very weak, for example, it can act as a restorative—sort of like your medicine. But two vampires stranded on a deserted island with nothing to feed upon but each other would eventually both perish. We need fresh blood—fresh human blood—on a regular basis, in order to replenish ourselves. Now,” he said as he lightly peppered her face with kisses. “Tell me. Why all the questions?”

  She kissed him back. “I was curious. I needed to know.” Then she pulled away a little, far enough to meet his eyes. “I missed you so much. I thought about you all the time while I was gone and I just…I just really missed you.”

  Conrad nodded tiredly. “I know,” he said, successfully fighting down the impulse to say more. It was the third time tonight she’d mentioned the fact but, this time…

  This time, her voice throbbed with an intensity that made his heart twist. The pitch of her voice, the gleam in her eyes, the way her fingers clutched at his arms, made the words take on a new meaning, their true meaning. This time, he finally heard what it was she was trying to tell him.

  He pulled her to him once again. “Ah, ma petite. Oui. Je t'aime, aussi.”

  “Wh-what does that mean?” she whispered, sounding breathless, sounding hopeful, sounding scared.

  Conrad sighed. He kissed her softly on the cheek and surrendered to his own stupidity. “It means ‘I love you, too’.”

  “Good.” Lips trembling, she gazed up at him. “Conrad, there was another reason I came here tonight. I came because…because I want to be with you.”

  Let her down gently. Smiling sadly, Conrad met her gaze. “I know, mignonne, but, trust me, it’s far better if we don’t—”

  “No.” She cut him off with a shake of her head. “No, you don’t understand. I want to be with you forever.”

  Conrad’s smile dissolved. He sat up against the headboard, his head spinning, his heart a welter of conflicting emotions. “What are you saying? You don’t even know what it is you’re asking for.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m asking you to turn me. I want you to make me a vampire. Like you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You want to be a vampire?” Conrad gazed at her askance. “What nonsense is this? Before tonight, you didn’t even believe vampires existed. Now, you wish to become one?”

  Sitting up beside him, Desert Rose frowned. “It’s not nonsense. And I’ve known for months. Besides, that’s why I was asking questions, so I could learn what I didn’t know.”

  “Ah, of course. I beg your pardon, mignonne,” Conrad responded with a laugh. “Two months of dread and denial and a handful of answers undoubtedly qualifies you to make such a momentous decision. My dear, how can you expect me to take such a request seriously? What makes you think you want to do such a thing anyway? As a way of life, it hardly recommends itself.”

  Her mouth set in a stubborn line, she answered, “You know why I want it. I want it because of you. I’ve never known anyone like you before and I just… Well, don’t you w
ant to be with me forever, too?”

  Perhaps it would be better to lie and tell her that, no, he didn’t. But he was too selfish to do so. He couldn’t bear to deprive himself so soon of that look in her eyes, so tender and trusting, so certain to be transitory. He thought he’d lost it once, already. Surely, tomorrow would be soon enough to banish it again, and for all time. “Forever is a very long time, mignonne.” His heart ached as he remembered the last person he’d thought would love him that long. “And love, by itself, is not always enough.”

  “Of course it is,” she said, sounding sulky and cross. “Don’t be silly, Conrad. It has to be. Don’t you know what they say? Love is all you need. I think that’s from the Bible or Shakespeare or something.”

  “No, I believe it’s the Beatles you’re quoting,” he replied, smiling wryly. “Which is not quite the same thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, who cares who it was? That’s not the point anyway. How much did you know about being a vampire before you were turned? Why did you want to become one?”

  “I didn’t,” he snapped, doing his best to tamp down the unreasoning rage the topic invariably engendered. “I knew nothing about them, nor did I want to, but I was given very little choice in the matter.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” she asked, looking stricken. “How come? What happened?”

  There was a term for those, like him, who’d had the transformation forced upon them. A term that could be used to refer to both the process involved and that which it produced. Lamia Invitus. The Unwilling. Conrad shook his head. “I do not speak of it. Ever.”

  Thinking about it, however, was not so easy to avoid. He could still recall the dark cell in which he’d been imprisoned, its stone walls stained with soot, the air around him filled with the stench of death and gore, with the screams of the tormented—his own among them.

  Again and again, his flesh was scored by knives whose blades had been dipped in a potion specifically designed to keep the cuts from closing, to keep his blood flowing freely. The fiery agony that danced within his wounds would have brought him to his knees had he not been manacled to the wall. Worst of all was being forced to watch as his lifeblood was drained off to fill one of the golden chalices which were all she who would become his sire would deign to drink from, scorning to let her lips touch human skin.

  Within his view she’d sampled the draught when it was brought to her, along with those of the others, as one might test a new wine from an untried vineyard. Carelessly. Callously. Casually. With the air of one who would not scruple to waste the entire vintage if she found it not quite to her liking.

  A part of him hoped she’d choke on the taste of him, but another part prayed her judgment of it would be favorable, so that she might allow him to live.

  Was it for several days she’d toyed with him in this fashion, or merely hours? He never knew. It was only after he’d been rendered dizzy and sick from blood loss, too weak to even protest his torment, when his eyesight was failing, his heart barely beat and it seemed as though death could be no more than a single breath away, that the choice was offered to him. Drink or die.

  “I’m sorry,” Desert Rose whispered, forcing his thoughts back to the present when she threw herself against his chest and held him tight. “Don’t look like that. Please. It’s too sad. I can’t stand it.”

  “It’s all right.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, more grateful for her warmth than he wanted to admit. He kissed her head. “It was a long time ago, mignonne. A very long time.”

  “Was it…was it very painful what they did to you?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “Did I not just tell you I would not speak of it?”

  “I know.” There was a trace of trepidation in her eyes as she gazed at him, but it did not appear to be due to any fear of what he might do to her if she persisted in questioning him. “But…was it?”

  “Excruciating,” he growled, hoping that would be the end of it. It wasn’t, of course.

  “Is it always that way when you turn someone—painful, I mean?”

  Ah, so that’s what she’s worried about. “Getting scared, are you?” he asked with just a touch of malice in his tone. “Having second thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “No.” But in her eyes the question remained.

  He smiled grimly. “Well, perhaps you should be.”

  “Tell me,” she urged, her voice but a whisper. “Is it?”

  “No,” he sighed at last. “Though it’s true there are parts of the process that some people find objectionable, it isn’t painful. Or, at least…it doesn’t have to be painful. Satisfied now?”

  “Almost.” She gazed at him speculatively. “So, if it wasn’t anything you wanted…are you saying you’re sorry now that it happened?”

  Conrad’s eyes grew wide. Was he? Amazingly, he couldn’t recall ever having been asked that question before. Certainly there were many things he’d done since becoming a vampire that he regretted, entire decades he wished he could forget. But if, in that single fateful moment which was all the time he’d been given to reach his decision, he’d chosen otherwise there was so very much he would have missed.

  “No,” he sighed again. “I’m not sorry. I did what I thought was best at the time. As Cicero put it, ‘while there’s life, there’s hope’. Faced with the same circumstances again today, I believe my decision would be the same. Still, one should have more choice in the matter than I was given.”

  “Well, see?” she said sitting up again, speaking with the air of someone trying to explain the obvious. “That’s what I’m talking about. You’re not sorry and you didn’t even want to do it. I do want it. And, it’s my choice to make, isn’t it?”

  “It’s my choice as well,” he reminded her. “And it is not one I would make lightly.”

  Conrad lapsed into silence, staring at her thoughtfully, contemplating the very thing he’d told himself repeatedly last November he would never again do: ignore all the painful lessons experience had taught him and turn someone with whom he was already far too obsessed.

  Why the hell shouldn’t he do what he wanted? Why worry about the possibility of future regrets—his or hers? Hadn’t he earned the right to sire whomever he pleased, whenever and however it suited him to do so? Even at its worst, it was unlikely this could ever top some of the mistakes he’d already made.

  Although his taste for it had waned considerably in the past several hundred years, in his younger, more careless days he’d sired his share of vampires, many of them, if truth be told, on little more than a whim. It wasn’t a matter of resources. He could certainly afford to care for another mouth to feed and he knew he would love teaching her the ways of his kind, guiding her steps, watching as she explored her new existence. That was always a pleasure.

  “Well?” she asked, her expression hopeful.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Her face fell. “What’s to think about? Besides, I’ve already thought. That’s all I’ve done—for two whole months. I want it now.”

  He gazed at her skeptically, unmoved by her argument. “You’ve done nothing for two months but think about becoming a vampire? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  Dropping her gaze she muttered, “That’s not what I meant. I thought of nothing but how much I wanted to be with you.”

  “So very young.” He lifted her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. His conscience pained him. “I wonder if it would not be best if I sent you away, after all? I may be doing you a very grave disservice, ma petite, letting you stay here—for even one more night, or by letting you fill your mind with thoughts of forever when all you should be thinking about is today. You’ve seen so little of the world yet.”

  “Send me away?” She gazed at him piteously, her dismay making her appear even younger, which did nothing to help her cause. “You wouldn’t do that. Would you?”

  “It might be the kindest thing I could do,” he said gently.

  Her face turned
mutinous. “Well, I don’t care. Because I won’t go.”

  “You won’t go. Is that a fact?” Conrad allowed himself a moment longer to bask in the innocence, the purity, the sincerity of her feelings for him. Then he lunged at her. Shoving her flat on her back, he pinned her beneath him. She struggled at first, but settled down quickly when he snarled at her, letting all his teeth show. “You will do as you are told. I don’t know what makes you think I would even consider turning someone like yourself. You would make a most unruly spawn. You’re headstrong, impatient, willful, petulant. My dear, the vampire who sired you, if he were not already insane to begin with, would surely be driven mad, in no time at all, by his attempts to control you.”

  A spark of anger gleamed in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “No one controls me.”

  Conrad grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve noticed. Which is exactly why you would make such a terrible vampire.”

  “You’re not being very nice,” she protested, squirming beneath him once again. Her face was flushed and she was clearly uncomfortable with the position she was in. Good. He let her stay that way.

  “If you are looking for someone to be nice to you, I think you would do well to reconsider your plans, mignonne. I am rarely ever nice. There is a reason we vampires are feared. A very good reason, as it turns out. As a sire, you would find me often harsh and frequently cruel. I would demand total obedience from you and if I didn’t get it, I would give you cause to fear me, and probably to hate me, as well. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, frowning back at him. “I got it.” Then her face changed. Her eyes narrowed. Conrad frowned. Rather than backing down or dissolving into tears, which is what he’d been expecting her to do, she now looked…thoughtful. “What about Armand?” she asked after another moment. “He’s one of you too, right?”

  “Ye-es,” Conrad replied slowly, wondering where her thoughts were headed. Then it hit him. His hands tightened on her shoulders and he gave her a shake, surprising a startled squeak out of her. “You will not even think about appealing to him to sire you,” he growled in earnest this time. “He already knows better than to entertain such a notion without first seeking my permission, but tomorrow I will make my feelings on the matter doubly clear to him. If anyone is going to sire you it will be me. Me, or no one. Is that understood?”