“I did say what I meant.” His thumb absently traced her cheek as he went on. “I still think you should go.” He stopped, as if waiting for her reaction.
The only word that rose to her mind was her standard, monosyllable reply, “Oh?”
“But I don't want you to,” he whispered. He suddenly pulled her against him, so that the cold of his skin seeped through her clothes. He wadded the material of her shirt desperately as he buried his face against her neck and let her long golden hair shield him from the world.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. His familiar scent filled her with a mixture of peace and pain. And she clutched him tightly. Though, she tried not to cry, she couldn’t stop. A soft sob escaped and she mumbled against him, “Then what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to stay.” His lips moved against her neck. “I want you to want to stay.”
Katelina pulled loose so she could look up into his face. She found herself drowning in his silky eyes; the dark depths pulled her under and erased the horrors that clung to her mind. “I want to stay,” she whispered.
Before she could say anything else, he folded her against him and claimed her lips, kissing her as if he was afraid of ever letting her go.
**********
Chapter Ten
They spent the remainder of the day in the bedroom where Katelina could ignore what had happened. Jorick left a couple times to bring her the last of the pizza and something to drink, and both times she sensed he was returning before he actually appeared.
She lay in his arms, in the ridiculous bed, and stared at him uncertainly. He offered her a crooked smile. Moments stretched, and then he said finally, “Well?”
“Well what?” Surprise washed over her, and her brows furrowed in confusion at the misplaced emotion. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Now Jorick looked confused. “Can’t you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you. You’re talking aren’t you?”
“That’s not what I mean.” He broke off and stared at her thoughtfully, then his voice sounded inside her head. Unlike Kateesha, it was actually his voice, so that it sounded like he was speaking, “You can’t hear my thoughts?”
The intrusion made her physically jump. “Whoa. What was that?”
“So you heard that?” Jorick asked absently. “Interesting.”
She rubbed her forehead and glared at him. “What’s ‘interesting’?” She took in his facial expression and a strange suspicion occurred to her. “You do know how this linking thing works, right?”
His eyes shifted away from hers guiltily. “Actually, no.” He continued before she could object, “Well, I’ve never done it before, have I? It’s actually a rather antiquated process.”
“What do you mean?” She thought back to the discussion in Claudius’s den.
Jorick gave a half shrug. “As Troy said, no one does it anymore.” He flinched at her furious gaze. “Sorry. Your thoughts are very loud. I think they’re louder than mine.” He offered her a jovial smile, but the emotion didn’t ring true. “As I was saying, it fell into disuse in the 1700’s because it made the master too vulnerable. The last documented case of it was when a master used his human link to murder a rival coven, and after that it was looked on with suspicion, or even fear.”
She imagined murdering the others and smiled. “How does it weaken the vampire?” She refused to use the word “master”.
He blinked again. “On the short term it weakens a vampire to give some part of himself away, the same as it does when he turns someone. On the long term it’s because his human could hear his thoughts, or so they say.” He gave another shrug. “Either way, I’ve never actually known anyone who did it.”
She started to ask what the point of it was, but he obviously read her mind again because he answered before the words left her lips. “Since the master is supposed to see and hear what the human can, they could send them not only on missions, but also out in daylight and it would be as though they were there, without actually having to expose themselves to danger. It was considered very useful, especially during the old wars, before The Guild gained control.”
“The Guild,” she muttered with distaste. Images of the black clad Executioners came to her mind and she shuddered.
“The Guild is much more than that,” Jorick said quietly. “You can’t imagine that all the vampires in the world could be controlled by a handful of Executioners?”
She felt amusement wash over her and realized that it was his; she could feel his emotions!
“The ones you saw are only for North America, the new world. There are many others, all answerable to the headquarters in Munich where the oldest of all the vampires resides.”
“Like a world government,” she murmured.
“Of course.” He tilted his head at her questioningly. “How else would it be done?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her head back to the pillow and sighed. “So you don’t know how this linking thing works?”
“I already told you, I have a vague idea. I knew how to do it, at least.” His smile held a little too much smug pride. “I imagine we’ll figure it out as we go. It’s probably like being turned. What kind of vampire you become depends on what raw materials you had to begin with.” He frowned. “Though you also inherit gifts from your master, but I believe you need to be predisposed to it.”
Katelina wasn’t sure she wanted a lecture on vampire abilities, or details about being “turned”, so she shifted the conversation back. “Can you feel what I feel, then?”
Jorick snapped back from his reverie. “What? Oh, you mean your emotions? No, I can’t, which is just as well. I can barely hear over you as it is. I can’t imagine feeling every changing sentiment too.”
“Well, I can feel yours.”
That got his attention. “Really? But you can’t hear me?”
“Apparently not. That or you never think anything. Either or.”
“Very funny.” He stared at her silently for a moment and then she heard, whispered in her mind, “But you can hear this?”
“Yes. But I don’t like it. Don’t do that.”
He nodded to himself. “It seems I have to consciously send it to you. Very interesting.”
“It’s not interesting,” she cried and smacked him on the shoulder. “It’s annoying. I don’t like it.”
His eyes grew wide and then he smirked. “Oh, there. For a moment. I felt that.”
“What? Me hitting you? Because I can do it again if you-”
“No,” he cut her off. “Anger. But I couldn’t really catch it. It was like chasing a ghost. Very interesting indeed.”
“It isn’t interesting at all.” When he only laughed, she rolled over and glared at the wall. Here she’d almost died and he found it all so interesting!
Jorick cleared his throat loudly. “I didn't find that very interesting.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “You know I wouldn’t have done this if I could have found another way.”
She sighed heavily as his guilt consumed her. “Yeah, I know.” She stared at the smooth wall and thought back to that night. She pictured Jorick walking across the yard, his hands in his pockets as he disappeared into the darkness. Her voice was thick when she asked, “Where did you go?”
He didn’t bother to pretend not to know what she meant. “I went for a walk.”
“Where?” She couldn’t name the emotion that slinked through her mind, but it made her chest feel tight and uncomfortable.
“I went to the beach. I didn’t want to be here when you… when you left.”
She nodded silently. “So you heard…”
“No,” he answered flatly. “My hearing is good, but not that good. I came back because I thought you’d be gone already. Of course, when I got closer, then I could hear…” he broke off and nuzzled his face against the back of her neck.
She felt his mournful regret. “It’s all right,” she murmured softly. �
�What matters is that you came.”
“Is it?” he asked seriously and tightened his hold on her. “Despite the terrible sin I committed?”
She rolled her eyes impatiently. “Oh stop it. You know very well I’ve forgiven you. I understand why you did it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she added. “But, I understand.” “And I’m sorry for the way I reacted,” she added silently.
“It’s all right,” Jorick murmured. “I imagine it was quite a shock.”
She couldn’t stop the incredulous snort. “That’s an understatement.”
The next day Katelina was forced to confront reality. Jorick did his best to bundle her through the house quickly, and outside to where the silver car was still parked in the driveway. She stared at the vehicle with horror, but Jorick didn’t seem to notice her reaction and climbed into the driver’s seat. He shut the door loudly and she cried, “You can’t be serious.”
His voice washed through her mind, “Of course I’m serious. We need a car and, look, here’s a car. Now get in”
“Stop that.” She banged on the driver’s window, until he wound it down. “I’m not riding in there.”
Jorick sighed and she felt his irritation prickle her. “Katelina, we need to buy your food. I can walk to town and fetch it back, but since I can’t fly it would take all night. Now, get in, so we can go.”
“But…”
“Get in the car, or I’ll leave you here.”
Despite his threat, she knew he wouldn’t really leave her there alone. He hadn’t even strayed very far to feed that evening. However, she surrendered. He was right; they needed a car and here was a car.
She could feel his smugness the whole way to town.
The grocery store was a surreal experience. To see Jorick surrounded by boxes of instant meals and bottles of soda seemed wrong. Even worse, she felt like she didn't belong there. The lights were too bright, the floors too shiny, and the colors too vivid. It was like falling into a fairytale world she no longer believed in; and that scared her more than anything else.
They spent the next two days cleaning up the house and doing laundry. Jorick handled the latter, because the blood splattered clothes made Katelina sick, so she helped him pick up from his tantrum. They had to sacrifice a blanket and one of the living room rugs to wrap Adam and Nirel’s bodies in, but there was a silver lining. When they moved the rug they found an old, ornate grating set in the floor. Katelina thought it gave the room personality, though Jorick wasn’t interested.
When they were finished, the house looked almost bare by comparison and they were left with a pile of debris. They packed the broken furniture and the bodies into the car, then drove to the beach, where Jorick lit a bonfire and slowly burned everything.
Katelina stood between the fire and the ocean while Jorick fed one of the corpses into the flames. She looked away and thought about how desensitized she’d become. She should have been repulsed, or sickened, but instead she was just numb, like it was every day trash.
Still, the smell of burning flesh was as gruesome as it had been at Oren’s mansion, and she backed away from the smoke. Jorick stoked the fire, then moved to her side and slipped an arm around her waist. “Why don’t I take you back to the house? I have another load to get, anyway.”
She nodded and Jorick dumped the other body into the bonfire before he joined her in the car. When they got back to the house the first place she headed was the shower, and when she emerged, clean and free of the stench, Jorick was gone. She hurried towards the basement, where her clothes were. Despite the cold, she paused outside the secret room, held motionless by morbid fascination. The ruined door was gone and, when she got her nerves up, she stepped inside and flipped on the light. The room was empty, except for a lone chair. It sat in the middle of the floor, and faced the window and the dark brown stains that ran down the wall. The memories made her shudder, but it was with a certain sense of satisfaction that she noted the absence of the gilt framed painting.
Jorick returned later and casually buried the bones of the two vampires in the backyard. After a quick shower, he announced that it was nearly dawn, and led Katelina to the basement bedroom, where sleep soon claimed them both.
It was a nightmare.
Blood; there was blood everywhere. Her clothes were soaked with it and it stained her pale skin in smears of red. She sat on the floor, a body cradled in her arms. Hot tears fell from her eyes and her vision was so blurry she could barely see them.
“No,” she heard an aching voice whisper; torn and raw. “Not again. God, not again!”
She’d tried to stop the bleeding, but nothing worked. She pulled them closer and screamed to the ceiling, a wordless howl of pain. She could hear their heart slowing and she knew they were dying. They were dying and it hurt so much! Her chest felt hollow and empty, stabbed through with something sharp, and she buried her face against their bloody neck. She could stop this, she knew how to do it. There was a way, but if she did it they’d hate her forever…
She stared down at the figure in her arms and counted their decreasing heart beats. How many more would there be until they stopped completely? Fresh, hot pain coursed through her and she knew that she had to do it no matter the consequence. She couldn’t just watch them die.
She lifted her own arm to her mouth and bit into it. It hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to what she was already feeling. Dark blood ran down her arm and she pressed her bleeding flesh against their slack lips and forced her blood inside their mouth. A tiny trail leaked from the corner and ran down their chin; a miniature river. The sight choked her.
“I’m sorry,” the voice whispered, heavy with unshed sobs. “I’m sorry.” And then she opened her mouth and clamped it around their dying throat. She didn’t feel her teeth slice through their skin, but she tasted the blood as it filled her mouth. She swallowed almost desperately, her mind seeking something in the connection; some spark. No, it couldn’t be too late! It couldn’t!
“You can’t die, Katelina, You can’t die!”
She woke, startled. It wasn’t her dream, but Jorick’s.
She rolled over and reached for him through the darkness. He lay still, trapped inside his dreams, his skin cold. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest as she tried to banish the bloody visions from her mind. She knew what it was; a nightmare about turning her, and it was something she didn’t want to think about.
Jorick stirred next to her and she snuggled closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her in response, and she wondered if he remembered his dream. But, he was either too sleepy to notice her thoughts or else chose to ignore them. Minutes passed and then he gave his usual deep, shuddering breath that signaled he was truly awake.
“Good morning,” she murmured against his skin.
“Good evening,” he returned. “You’re awake early.”
She didn't mention the nightmare, but she knew it was present in her thoughts if he wanted to comment on it. In the meantime, she made a different excuse. “Because I’m hungry.”
She felt his doubt, but he stayed silent.
They completed their morning rituals; she dressed and threw a cardboard carton in the oven, while he disappeared to go hunt down some poor animal. He didn’t stray very far from the house, so she knew that was what he fed on. They didn’t live in a thriving metropolis with passersby.
Jorick returned and she ate. With nothing to clean and nowhere to go, they found themselves seated uncomfortably in what was left of the front room. Jorick sat in one of the wing backed chairs and read while Katelina sprawled on the couch and tried to concentrate on a boring book. It was nearly midnight when she instinctively felt him stiffen. She glanced up to find that she was right; he sat rigidly in the chair, his head tilted as he listened intently.
She didn’t bother to ask him what it was, because she knew he’d only silence her. He nodded vaguely, agreeing with the statement, then slowly rose from the chair and moved towards the door. His a
nxiety washed over her and, though she tried to ignore it, fear stabbed at her chest.
A minute passed and then Jorick suddenly relaxed. Footsteps crunched noisily through the snow outside and Jorick explained, “It’s only Oren.”
She closed the book and watched Jorick curiously. “And how do you know?”
“I can smell him, of course,” he replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just like I can smell you.”
Katelina gave a tiny, tight laugh. “Of course you can. Why not?”
Jorick ignored her, and dropped back into the chair. “Enter.”
Oren did as instructed, tracking snow across the floor. His blonde mane fell loose around his shoulders and white flakes melted on his long, gray coat. He brushed absently at it while his eyes swept the room. Surprise registered on his face when he noticed Katelina. “Loren said she left.”
“Did he?” Jorick asked coldly, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he’d know what happened had he been here.”
Oren shrugged casually and ran a hand through his long hair. “He’s been busy. We all have.” He trailed off as he spied the hole in the wall. “You were attacked.” It was a statement not a question.
“Yes.” Jorick admitted calmly. “It seems Kateesha wanted to sacrifice some of her new followers.” His lips smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes.
“I thought I smelled recent death,” Oren said with no emotion. “I did warn you, though.”
“Did you?” Jorick asked lightly. “I don’t recall you mentioning that you were going to send them here.”
Oren started to speak, and then stopped as Jorick’s words filtered through. “What? I haven’t sent anyone.”
“Kariss?” Jorick asked sarcastically. “Have you forgotten her?”
“Kariss,” Oren murmured with a hint of regret. “She came of her own, but she had nothing to do with Kateesha.”
“Didn’t she? Because her friends most certainly did.” Jorick glared at Oren furiously, as though he was forcing his thoughts into the blonde’s head.
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