Turned Innocence

by Mara Lee

  Sheridan shook her head. She felt hysterics rising. “Do you hear yourself? This is ridiculous.”

  Xethre’s face paled and fine blue veins showed under the surface of his skin. His turquoise eyes began to glow and his lips curled under to reveal sharp fangs. “Do you believe what you can see with your own two eyes, Sheridan?”

  Sheridan swallowed. “I … I used to.”

  Xethre smiled. His smile revealed even more fang. “Then believe this: vampires exist. I am a vampire, Sheridan. And you … you have been deemed prey.”

  * * * *

  Sheridan gnashed her teeth together. She was currently sitting on Xethre’s leather couch, shaking, and not from cold. She was trying to process what had happened to her.

  Oh, God. She had slept with him. She had known him a week, just a week, and she had slept with him. She was a slut. She was worse than a slut. She met this man at a club, he followed her—and then she went back to his house? Was she crazy? And, whoa … this was what she was worried about? She was worried and thinking about the fact that she had just given her virginity to a man—no—wait—a corpse.

  Obviously there were bigger issues here—issues like, oh, vampires.

  Sheridan covered her eyes with her hands. “I don’t believe this.” She muttered.

  “Sheridan…” Xethre’s voice was cajoling.

  Sheridan looked up. Her eyes were accusing. “No. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  Xethre sighed. “As it is nearing five thirty … I don’t have much time to talk to you, either.”

  Sheridan blanched. Nearing five o’clock, in the morning? Did that mean? “You have to shut yourself in your coffin, Mr. Lugosi?” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Xethre.

  “Sheridan. You truly are upset about this?”

  Sheridan jumped up. Suddenly she was furious. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t incredulous. She was furious.

  “It seems that men—dead or alive—are all idiots!” Sheridan screamed. She began to pace. “Stupid man. Thinks he can just tell me, ‘Hey, I’m a vampire. I drink blood,’ and I’m just going to smile and tilt my head to the side so he can take a bite out of me? Idiots … you’re all idiots. Is this the Almighty’s way of punishing me for not attending church in six years? I wait twenty-six years to have sex … and then, when I finally give it up, the man I sleep with isn’t even a man—he’s dead. Dead—you should be resting six feet under, not walking around like some damned GQ ad. What is wrong with you? You can’t even stay dead?” Sheridan was vaguely aware that she was ranting, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She was nearly hysterical. It was all too ridiculous not to be true.

  Of course it would happen to her. Of course. She could never catch a break.

  “Sheridan,” Xethre tried to interject.

  Sheridan wasn’t nearly through. “I mean … I said no to Greg Wilson—the captain of the football team. I told him no.” Sheridan began to laugh, helplessly. “I told him I was waiting for the ‘right one’, someone perfect … someone special.” She rolled her eyes. “Well I found him all right … someone special. And why now? Why you?” Sheridan squeaked when she found herself locked in Xethre’s fierce embrace. He had moved so fast. One moment she was yelling—the next—she was trying not to pant as his breath caressed her sensitive ear.

  Xethre’s voice was low. “I am the one, Sheridan. I am the only one. You gave yourself to me because you could do no less. Can you not feel it? Our souls call to one another.”

  Sheridan swallowed. “I can’t breathe.”

  Xethre loosened his grip but did not let go.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Your ego knows no bounds.”

  His smile was brilliant. “It is not ego, love, just truth. I know when you lie. I know when your body lies. You cannot hide anything from me. You want me. You want me, Sheridan.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I may want you,” when she looked up her eyes were turbulent, “but I don’t trust you.”

  Xethre released her so suddenly that she stumbled.

  Sheridan took several breaths. She walked to the door. When she was standing in the open doorway she turned her head back—spearing him with her deep blue eyes. “I don’t trust you.”

  * * * *

  It shouldn’t hurt. Damn it, it shouldn’t hurt.

  “It should not matter. She is only human.” Xethre murmured. “Only human.”

  But it did matter. She mattered. It had been a week since he had seen her. And she was everywhere. He could do nothing, not even feed—without thinking of her. When had she slipped in? When had she broken down his defenses?

  Xethre sighed and shook his head. If he weren’t so prideful, he would admit to himself that he had been lost from the moment he had seen her. His broken, un-beating heart had pulsed or wanted to pulse for the first time in over two centuries when he had laid eyes on Sheridan. He had seen her so bright, beautiful and angelic on the stage and he had known. Somehow his soul had recognized her.

  “So pensive tonight.” The new voice cut through the weight of his thoughts. It was lilting, deep, dark and enchanting. It was a voice smoother than thick cream and heavy with promise. It was a voice like no other—it could belong to only one person.

  Xethre turned slowly. “Michaela,” he whispered.

  Michaela levitated slowly over. Her jet-black hair moved restlessly around her, as if tossed by an invisible wind.

  She was perhaps the most beautiful woman Xethre had ever seen—dead or alive—and yet, she held no appeal to him. There was only one woman in this thoughts. Only one woman who dominated his dreams and his nightmares.

  “A woman? Xethre? Is that not merely predictable?” Michaela asked acerbically.

  Xethre narrowed his eyes. He didn’t even ask how she had known. He had learned not to question the Dark Twins’ uncanny knack of deduction. They were the Dark Twins.

  “What are you doing here, Michaela?” Xethre looked past her—now confused. “And where is Matthew?”

  Her bright glow dimmed and her eyes deepened. She moved over to the window. “Matthew is not with me.” Her eyes were fixed on the darkness that lay outside.

  Xethre nodded. “I can see that, Michaela. Where is he?” When she didn’t answer he stiffened. “Nothing has happened, has it? Is he all right? Damn it, Michaela. Is Matthew all right?”

  She turned to face him. “I wouldn’t know.”

  He reared back. “Michaela, that makes no sense. You and Matthew share everything. You would know if he…”

  “—you would think so,” Michaela finished, “you would think I would know. But I do not.” She laughed. But it was a bitter laugh. “Oh, I know that he is still with us. Physically he is all right. But I know little else.”

  Xethre walked over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Tell me,” he urged. “Tell me, Michaela.”

  And Michaela—who shared nothing, unless it was with her brother—unleashed her pain to Xethre.

  * * * *

  “So he seeks a cure?” Xethre asked.

  Michaela made a disgusted sound from deep within her throat. “He seeks something. I do not believe that even he knows what it is. But he claims that a cure is what he … needs.”

  “There is no cure,” Xethre said quietly.

  Michaela exploded. “You think I don’t know that! You think I don’t know that it is pointless. But he does not listen to me. He will not listen to me. We have never been apart.” The anger had fled from Michaela in moments. Her voice was now quiet and distinctively pained. “We have always been as one, Matthew and I. Each as shadows—we always blended together. That is why I do not understand this … this…” her voice broke off. She turned quickly away from Xethre.

  Xethre sighed. “He seeks his own path, Michaela. Do you not want that for your brother? You entered this world first,” Xethre’s smile was sad, “and you died first. Matthew went where you went. Do you not see? For the first time ever … you are the one following Matthew. You are the one that worries for Matth
ew.”

  Michaela remained silent.

  “You were carved from the same flesh, Michaela. But your souls are separate.”

  When Michaela spoke her words were bitter. “Do we have souls, Xethre?”

  Xethre snorted. “We are to debate tonight, Michaela?”

  Michaela smiled slightly. “No. No debate.” For the first time since entering Xethre’s home, she looked at him, really looked at him. “You look terrible, Xethre.”

  “Why thank you. Your sweet words humble me.”

  Michaela’s laugh was warm and silky. It filled the room like a tangible thing. “It is because of this … girl? This human girl?”

  “Sheridan. Her name is Sheridan.” Xethre said quietly.

  “Pretty name.”

  “She is beautiful, Michaela.”

  “Your conquests always are.”

  “She is not a conquest.”

  A raised eyebrow was the only sign of her surprise. “Oh?”

  “She is prey.”

  “What?”

  “My assignment, Michaela.”

  “Tell me.” Michaela’s tone was sharp.

  He did.

  * * * *

  Michaela’s expression was unreadable. He had finished telling her about the Council’s request and both sat silent and pensive before the fire.

  “You must find out why the Council wants her, Xethre.” Michaela said. “If you wish to keep her.”

  “I know.”

  “The Council hasn’t demanded a Turn since…”

  “Yes, yes I know.”

  “It is highly strange.”

  Xethre sighed. “I am aware of this.”

  Both shared surprised looks when the doorbell rang.

  “Were you expecting a visitor?” Michaela asked.

  His expression was bland. “I never have visitors. And no, you do not count. You are never expected, you just show up.”

  She laughed and got up gracefully. “Do let me. I have so few domestic pleasures these days.”

  * * * *

  Sheridan shifted nervously on Xethre’s doorstep. What was she doing here? It had been a week since she had seen Xethre. A week in which she had fretted, ranted, cried, laughed hysterically and basically missed him all to hell. She told herself the only reason she missed him was because he was the handsomest man she had ever known and because the sex had been incredible. But she knew that it was a lie—oh, not the part about him being unbelievably handsome or about the sex being incredible—but about why she missed him.

  It had scared her when he had told her that their souls called to one another. Hell, it had freaked her out totally. She had run from him then. She couldn’t face the truth that—alive or dead—she wanted him. She wanted him so much she felt as if she was burning from the inside out.

  He was everywhere. She could do nothing without thinking of him.

  So here she was—on his doorstep. Hoping to gain—

  “My, my … what have we here?”

  Sheridan’s eyes widened and she stepped back. The woman in the doorframe was stunningly beautiful. In fact, Sheridan had never seen anyone more beautiful in her entire life.

  The woman had shockingly black hair that fell to her waist. Her eyes were a strange mix of gray and silver and were so clear they seemed to pierce right through you. Her bosom was generous, her waist tiny and her posture so straight and noble one thought instantly of royalty—or possibly of Miss America. She was wearing a long velvet gown, burgundy in color, and around her slender white neck she wore an ivory cameo. She was breathtakingly gorgeous—and she was answering Xethre’s door.

  Sheridan backed away. “Uh, I guess this is a bad time.” She swallowed when Xethre appeared behind the beautiful woman.

  “Sheridan,” he said reverently.

  “Hi.” Her voice was a little unsteady. She looked quickly between Xethre and the beautiful woman.

  “Come in, please,” Xethre said.

  Sheridan shook her head. “You have company. I can come back later.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Come in. Please. You’re cold.” Xethre pushed Michaela to get past her and scowled when she remained where she was.

  “You haven’t introduced us, Xethre.” Michaela said sweetly.

  His expression darkened. “That’s because I didn’t really want to conduct introductions on the doorstep of my house. She’s freezing,” Xethre said forcefully and shoved past Michaela.

  He took Sheridan’s cold hands.

  “Xethre,” Sheridan’s voice was unsure, “I really can come back some other time…”

  “Nonsense. Come in. Please come in, Sheridan.” Xethre said urgently.

  Sheridan looked into his deep blue eyes and could think of nothing else to say but, “Yes.”

  Chapter Five:

  Sheridan twisted her hands together nervously. Xethre and the beautiful woman were staring at her intently.

  “Do I have something on my face?” She asked, then, to Michaela, “You know, it’s rude to stare.”

  The woman smiled. Her smile was positively lethal. “She’s so cute, Xethre.”

  Xethre saw Sheridan’s scowl and sighed. “Sheridan, meet Michaela.”

  “Are you dead, too?” Sheridan asked sharply.

  Xethre gasped.

  Michaela burst into laughter. “Precious. My goodness, she’s precious.”

  “Sheridan,” Xethre said warningly. He knew all to well what Michaela was capable of when she was angered.

  Michaela smiled. “Do let her be, Xethre. It is refreshing. A human who doesn’t cower from us. Very interesting.”

  Sheridan narrowed her eyes. “You know, talking about me like I’m not here, that’s rude too.”

  “Sheridan,” Xethre said again.

  Michaela eyes twinkled. “Sheridan, such a pretty name.”

  “Thanks,” Sheridan said dryly.

  “So, you’re a singer.” Michaela said.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you any good?” Michaela asked.

  Sheridan’s face was bland of expression. “I like to think so. Of course, I’m a little out of practice since I quit my job and…” her voice dropped off.

  Xethre came to sit by Sheridan’s side. He took her cold hands within his and smiled into her tense face. “I am glad that you came tonight, Sheridan.”

  Sheridan frowned. “Yeah, well, it was this or a game of solitaire.” Sheridan looked between Xethre and Michaela. “Now, I’m thinking the game of solitaire would have been preferable.”

  Both Xethre’s and Michaela’s eyes went wide with amusement.

  Michaela leaned forward. Her gray eyes were filled with mischievous light. “My dear friend, Xethre, has been missing your presence.”

  Sheridan narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like the way Michaela said ‘friend’. It was like a caress, something decidedly intimate. “Well, I had a couple of things to straighten out before I … I … well … came to visit,” Sheridan finished lamely.

  Xethre began to circle the palm of Sheridan’s hand with his fingers. It was a soothing, comforting motion. “Michaela was just leaving.” He shot the other woman a cool look.

  Michaela laughed. “Was I?”

  “Yes, you were.”

  Michaela let out a long beleaguered sigh. “Fine.” She got to her feet gracefully. “Although you do not deserve it, I shall help you anyway.”

  Xethre wanted to tell her to keep her help, but knew that when Michaela offered aid, one should accept. She did not give aid lightly or often.

  “I shall see what I can find out about this Turning, Xethre.”

  “Thank you.”

  Michaela’s laughter was like so many tinkling bells. “My, now that wasn’t so difficult was it, thanking me?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  Michaela smiled. It felt good to smile. She had little to smile at, of late. “I’ll be in touch, Xethre.” She turned her enigmatic gray eyes onto Sheridan. “And I do hope that you and I shall have an opportunit
y to get to know one another better, pretty Sheridan.” She tossed both Xethre and Sheridan one last sly look before dematerializing out of the room.

  Sheridan cleared her throat and blinked several times. She ran a hand down her skirt and nodded jerkily.

  “Well, that was certainly something.”

  Xethre sighed. “I do apologize…”

  “—What for?” Sheridan asked, interrupting him.

  Xethre appeared surprised. “Well, for Michaela’s unexpected presence. I did not know that she would come to my home tonight, or that you and she would have a, ‘run in’.”

  Sheridan shrugged her dainty shoulders. “Didn’t you just say her presence was unexpected?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then you have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know she was coming. You didn’t know I was coming. Actually, if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I wasn’t invited at all, and here I am. I even seemed to scare your guest off.”

  Xethre’s mouth opened in shock, right before he burst out laughing. When he saw Sheridan’s annoyed expression is held his hand up. “I … I … do not mean to laugh, little one, but the idea of you ‘scaring’ Michaela off, was too much for me to take in.” He cleared his throat. “You did nothing that you need to apologize for. Michaela was just being dramatic. Believe me, if she hadn’t wanted to go, she wouldn’t have. She has enough power to do whatever it is that she wishes.”

  “That much, huh?” Sheridan said matter-of-factly. She was still looking down at her lap. For some reason she was hesitant to look up at him. Maybe it was because looking at him was all she truly wished to do.

  He nodded, his voice was suddenly cool. “That much and more.” Xethre trailed his fingers down the side of her cool face and brought them to rest upon her lush lips.

  Sheridan twisted a lock of her hair around her finger and finally drew her eyes up to stare Xethre straight in the face. The impact of his gaze was staggering. She felt her breath escape her body and her heart began to beat frantically. Those eyes, those turquoise eyes, they held her enraptured. Suddenly she could think of nothing else but being near him, being one with him. He was power, life, love, … past, present and future. He was everything. And she had to have him.