As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Alyssa saw the smoke slipping through the doors. It seemed to gather itself and thickened slowly. Soon, she saw the shape of Nevar. As soon as his form had solidified, he walked to her side at the head of the bed.
"Thank you, Xander. Are you going home, or would you like to stay awhile?" Nevar asked.
"I think I'll head out. You'll let me know if you need anything. As always, you know where to find me."
"That I do. Keep your nose out of trouble. I don't want to have to bail you out of the pound again."
"As if I needed to be bailed out. Alyssa, don't believe anything this man says about me." He winked at her. I promise I'll be back soon.
Nevar eyed him suspiciously as Xander let himself out. He radiated jealousy from every pore. Alyssa had just noticed the bag in Nevar's hand. "So," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, "I suppose it must be happy hour if you're bringing me a pint."
Nevar laughed and she could see an instant change in his demeanor. His mind had been brooding in dark places. Xander? She couldn't tell, but she preferred his laughter.
"Yes. For you, it is happy hour, and then you need rest. Your body has been through a lot tonight. Tomorrow, you will feel better than you have ever felt before."
"How exactly should I drink that?" she asked pointing at the medical bag filled with dark red fluid.
"My personal suggestion? From a wine glass. You can almost fool yourself into thinking it is a full-bodied merlot," he emphasized the play on words and gave her a playful wink.
She laughed at his pun, whether intentional or not, she wasn't sure. "I didn't peg you as having much of a sense of humor, but I may have been wrong."
He smiled at her. "Give me just a few minutes to warm this up and find a suitable glass." He pointed to his temple. "I'll be listening in case you need anything."
Oh. How far away does it work?
From anywhere. I can hear Xander if he calls wherever he may be. It's delicate, though. I can't hear everyone, just those I've made contact with before. It won't be long before you can maintain your shields, but then, you will need to reach out to communicate, like opening a small window to the outside.
He turned from her and walked from the room, glancing over his shoulder at her as he left. She wondered if she really looked all that vulnerable. He seemed to think she were made of glass. She hoped he was wrong. Other than feeling completely out of energy, she felt fine. What she really wanted to do was just close her eyes, so she did. Just for a minute... She soon felt as though she were drifting away.
Chapter Four
She was walking through some kind of grid. She didn't know how else to explain it. She thought maybe this was a nightmare about her high school math teacher. It wouldn't be the first time.
One of the grid intersections opened up into what looked like a tunnel. She walked slowly closer to peer into the strange hole. Expecting to see quadratic equations or Dr. Turner step out, she was surprised to see it was empty. Simply a tunnel that seemed to continue until it found some destination.
She stared into the depths of the tunnel, wondering where it went. As she stared, it opened up into a dark room. The grid faded away and she was standing in what appeared to be a musty dungeon. There were chains hanging from the walls and ceiling attached to metal cuffs for chaining prisoners. It smelled damp and musty with a scent of lingering death hanging on the air. She could also smell a hint of tea leaves hidden underneath the pungent odor of decay.
Judging from the architecture of the dungeon, she guessed it was made in the early 1600's middle Europe. A sound came from behind her. She turned quickly to face whatever may be lurking in the shadows, but she saw only a small mouse scurrying along the far wall. Up above the mouse, was a ledge that looked as though it should have been a window, but it had been bricked over long ago.
Sitting on the ledge, was an ornate necklace on display. It was beautiful. It gave off a sense of being forbidden. It was a gold chain holding an elaborate golden dragon with rubies for eyes. The dragon looked as if it were alive; its eyes glittering even in the low light. She reached out for it and lifted it from its pedestal.
It was heavy in her hand, and it felt warm. There was something about this necklace. It felt powerful and full of history. She lifted the thick chain over her head and draped the dragon around her neck. It nestled itself snugly between her breasts. Its warmth seemed to radiate through her body.
Alyssa?
The voice registered in her mind, but it took a moment to identify it. It was Nevar. What was he doing here?
Alyssa, wake up.
The dungeon faded from view an she returned to the grid she had seen before. She was thinking about Nevar and the sound of his voice. Another tunnel opened up into the bedroom where she'd fallen asleep. She walked towards it. As she got closer, she saw herself laying in the bed with Nevar leaning over her, trying to rouse her. She took another step towards the tunnel and fell forward into the room.
It was a strange sensation, falling into herself. When she opened her eyes, the first things she saw were the chocolate eyes of Nevar gazing back at her. There was a breakfast tray over her lap. Toast, eggs, bacon, and a small vase with three pink carnations in it. Beside the flowers was a silver goblet with a dark red liquid inside.
She picked up the goblet and drank deeply. It was warm and rich and satisfying, but it lacked the fire she remembered. She polished off the glass and licked her lips before pulling it away from her mouth. She didn't want any leftovers showing on her face in front of her host.
"Would you like the rest?" he asked.
Her lashes brushed her cheeks as she looked down sheepishly. "Yes, I would," she admitted.
He reached for a matching silver pitcher and filled the cup once more. Suddenly, she noticed his body stiffen and his expression went blank, as if in shock. His hand reached out towards her and cupped the golden dragon that still curled itself around her neck. Her mouth went suddenly dry and her mind went completely blank. It had only been a dream. How was she still wearing the necklace unless she was dreaming still?
Where did you find this? He was too stunned to form the words aloud.
I fell asleep. I saw it in my dream. I only tried it on, but then you woke me up.
His eyes were as wide as she'd ever seen them. It was shocking to see him with such an expression. "You must be able to walk the planes. I never would have even thought to warn you. There hasn't been a vampire who could for centuries."
"What does that mean? 'Walk the planes'?"
"The theory goes that there are seven different planes of existence. Someone who can walk the planes would be able to travel great distances, or even cross time barriers, in very little time. Like a worm hole, so to speak. That amulet belonged to Vlad III Dracula, also called 'The Impaler'. He, of course is dead, even by vampire standards, he's been dead a while. His successor, Gabriel, will certainly want that back however."
"Who's Gabriel?"
"He was the prince of Transylvania some 200 years after Dracula. That amulet was a symbol of the Order of Dragons, of which Dracula was a member. It was rumored that he wore it backwards to invoke the devil, but it's hard to say how much of the histories were propaganda and how much was fact. It is supposed to hold great power, and Gabriel will not part with it willingly."
She gazed again at the gleaming eyes of the dragon, wondering if she could return it to its rightful place, but the truth was, she had no idea how she'd gotten it in the first place. She'd had no inclination to believe what she had was anything more than a strange dream, had the necklace not proven otherwise. Still, the dragon nestled itself nicely into the curves of her chest, seeming content to stay. It seemed to grow warmer and it's eyes appeared to glow.
"Nevar, it seems almost alive to me. I think it likes me. I know it's crazy, but I don't know how else to put it."
Instead of looking at her as if she needed a straight jacket, his eyes were sincere. He was listening to her an
d actually understanding because he knew her thoughts. She saw his eyes sweep downward at the dragon glaring at him from its perch. She felt like the dragon was guarding her, and it seemed to think Nevar was a threat.
Now it seemed to be in her head and not just around her neck. She was hearing its thoughts, she realized. Whatever this amulet was, it had a mind of its own.
The cup he had poured for her looked as if it were growing cold. She reached for the goblet with one hand, her free hand absent-mindedly stroking the dragon's golden scales. When her hand closed around the silver chalice, it was warm. The hunger she had not noticed was once again stoked. The scent of iron filled her nostrils as she put the cup to her lips.
The liquid was stale, but warm. It was deprived of oxygen, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, like over-brewed coffee. She had not noticed the chalky flavor of the anti-coagulants before. It satisfied the hunger, but left her wanting the pure, untainted fire of fresh blood that pulsed over her tongue.
Nevar's eyes were apologetic. "It's okay," she told him, before he had a chance to say he was sorry again. "Nothing like the taste of yours, but it'll do in a pinch." She gave him a quick smile, hoping to take his mind away for a minute. It worked. He flashed her a perfectly white smile in return. She picked at the rest of the food he had brought her, but didn't eat much of it. Her hunger had been satisfied already, the rest was just for the lingering desire to feel normal. With her hunger gone, she felt strength returning to her. She was able to shield her thoughts once more. The walls gave her comfort and came easily this time, but now, she did feel the effort it was taking to hold them. She needed sleep.
She knew instantly the moment the sun breeched the horizon. Her skin began to tingle as the hairs all stood on end. Her eyes stung as the light began to filter through the windows. "It's too bright in here."
He held up a hand to shield his own eyes and cursed under his breath. "I've not used my guest rooms in so long, I had forgotten they faced the eastern horizon. I can take you into the lower level, below ground. Do you care to walk?"
Yes. I think I can manage on my own. She swung her legs off the bed, happy to be facing the opposite direction of the increasingly bright sunlight. She stood slowly, taking care that she would not collapse again and embarrass herself. Once on her feet, her confidence returned. Her legs were as steady and capable as ever. She was a tall 5'9", which was still short by modeling standards, but nothing that wasn't easily fixed with a pair of four-inch heels. As tall as she was, Nevar still towered above her. He had to be about 6'3' to pull that off, maybe 6'4".
He smiled at her and offered his hand to lead the way. She took his hand in hers, still protecting her eyes with the other. He walked her into the hall and down the grand staircase. To the right of the foyer was another heavy oak door. He opened it easily and guided her into another hall. At the end of the hall was a large bookcase. He picked out a faded dark red leather-bound book, but it only tilted back as if on a hinge. She heard a metallic click and the bookcase slid to the right revealing another staircase. The lights came on illuminating the spiral stairs.
"There are no windows down here. These are also my private chambers, but I hope that you will be comfortable while you are here."
He started down the stairs as the bookcase began to slide back into place. She looked behind her and saw Zukko sneak into the stairwell just before the bookcase closed with a metallic click. She scooped him up with one arm and followed Nevar. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she expected a cellar, but it was just as elegant as the rest of the manor.
The landing opened up into a large living area with a wide stone fireplace and hearth, a large Persian rug was sprawled out in the center of the room with cozy furniture placed strategically to enjoy both the fireplace and the occupants' company. The only light sources other than the fire crackling cheerily in the room were the sconces on the walls. It gave the room a very warm ambiance without being too bright. She loved it already.
"It's perfect!" she sighed, walking further into the room. There was a guilded mirror hanging on the far wall that showed her reflection, just as Nevar had promised. She had not paid much attention to her appearance after Nevar had bitten her, only a quick glance as she checked over her wardrobe.
Now, though, she inspected herself thoroughly from her long black hair, gleaming with tints of gold from the fire, to her uninjured neck, and her long, lean body. She didn't look pale or sickly. She thought her muscle tone was more defined, but it was subtle. Of course, she had been beautiful before, but now, she would no longer need her photos airbrushed or even need make-up. Such measures would only tarnish her looks. It took her breath away. "I'm so beautiful," she said, feeling foolish for saying it.
"You always were," he whispered to her. "It has only enhanced what was already there."
"What if I had been ugly? Does it only improve your looks? Or can it go the opposite way as well?"
"The allure is part and parcel with becoming a vampire. It makes our prey come to us, so to speak. Although, I have heard rumors of vampires so hideous that people literally were frozen in fear, but, I can't prove or deny that it is true."
He touched her shoulder with his hand and she turned from the mirror to look at him. His eyes reflected the fire and outmatched it for heat and intensity. If she wasn't careful, this man would consume her.
"You must be tired," he told her, his voice was husky and quiet. "You can sleep in here." He led her to a room almost the size of the living area. Everything was decorated in rich reds and gold. The canopy bed was draped in thick red curtains and it looked even bigger than the one in the guest room. She was tired, she realized, more tired than she had realized. Holding her shields in place required too much energy, she assumed. Without bothering to undress, she put Zukko down on the floor and sat down on the massive bed long enough to take off her shoes before laying down.
Nevar walked over to the bed and stood over her. "I can find something more comfortable for you to wear if you like," he said, his expression almost looked as if she'd offended him. "If privacy is a concern, I promise you shall have the room to yourself."
"Oh no, it wasn't that," she told him. "I was just so tired. I wasn't even thinking about any of that. If you've got something for me to wear, I'll be happy to change."
He nodded and walked to an old antique dresser in the corner and opened one of the doors. He pulled out a deep burgundy silk dress shirt and closed the door. He handed it to her gently, then politely left the room.
Her walls were still in place. She checked them absent-mindedly. He still seemed offended by something, but she couldn't place what it was. She unfolded the shirt he had handed her and realized it would almost cover her knees. It looked very comfortable, indeed.
She changed quickly, removing her slacks first and then moving to her shirt. The dragon glinted against her skin, its eyes glittering softly in the light. It made her nervous; like it was watching her. She passed over her shirt to remove the necklace first. The dragon screamed at her to stop, but her shields were up and its cries meant little to her. She put it aside on the table by the bed, facing towards the cool wood surface. Then, she felt at ease to finish undressing and she buttoned Nevar's shirt up over her breasts, leaving just the top button open.
I wonder if Nevar heard the dragon, too. Maybe that's why he seemed upset and offended? Perhaps it wasn't me at all he was reacting to?
"Nevar? May I speak with you?" She didn't raise her volume; she knew wherever he was, he could hear her.
He stepped back into the room a minute later, but lingered near the doorway, not bothering to close the distance between them entirely. "Yes, milady?"
She pointed to the dragon medallion on the table. "I think that thing is dangerous," she said. "It's been whispering into my mind even through my shields, and I think it may have been doing the same to you."
Realization dawned on his face and she saw his brow knit with determination. "Alyssa," he started, but didn't finish his
thought. He didn't need to. His tone told her everything she needed to know. It was almost a whisper, the way he said her name, like a secret. He wanted her for his own, his secret, and here she was, in his bed. His veins swelled with desire, had his heart been beating still, it would have assumed its deep quickened rhythm in anticipation.
He crossed the room to her, not too quickly. He must show reserve or risk scaring her away. He could not have that. She was too precious, a gem among the gravel. He reached up to touch her cheek softly. Her bright green eyes were mesmerizing, and he was caught in their spell. He wanted her to enchant him, wanted to be under her spell.
He leaned in closer and slid his hand to the back of her neck. She offered no resistance, instead welcoming him. He took her offer and kissed her, the fire he'd tasted in her blood was intensified in her lips. He savored the taste of her a moment before drawing away. There was something he had to take care of first.
She could hear his thoughts. He had let his shields down to let her into his head. She had been hypnotized by the intimacy of it, and stunned that he trusted her enough to allow her to hear his thoughts. Her face felt hot and she wasn't sure if she was blushing, or if it was the heat from his kiss that caused it. The taste of his lips still lingered on her mouth and she hungered for more. His kiss was just as powerful as his blood had been, and a hundred times more satisfying.
He picked up the dragon amulet from the table. "I will be back momentarily," he told her. "This needs to be locked away somewhere safe. I believe it is even more dangerous than you think." He wanted to touch her again, but with the medallion in his hand, he was hesitant to. A moment or two longer, he could wait.
His form began to waver and dissolve again. In an instant, he was gone. She had not heard how he preformed that trick, and she was curious how he did it. There must be a reason she didn't hear him think about it. Maybe he didn't have to think about it at all? He must have done it countless times in his long life. Maybe he was trying to protect her. He had said some things would take time to learn and longer to perfect. She imagined transforming a solid body into a gaseous one must take skill and practice.
The Amulet Page 4